Saturday, September 08, 2012

poem: waveland

I walk the lines of compassion
Thin lines
Tit for tat
Ambrosial vagaries
I’ve been asked plenty of times
Times of plenty
Times of pasty gruel
Do the eventualities even matter?
Nappy-headed clockwork fantasies
Playing out the endgames
Of gogol ogling the gargoyles’
Fancies. Tribulation
Has its double-downs, its
Half-baked higgery piggeries,
Its seeming cascades of the dismal science,
The dismal heehaw of five and dime
Mentality. I need to know, she
Said, casual mistress beating
The streets, waveland down &
Outs, predestined Barbies,
Outflanked droogs,
Beatified novices of the tectonic scrapes.


Blogger murat11 said...

Image: Visions and Revisions: In Search of Lost Time, by Peter Milton.

8:23 PM  
Blogger anno said...

mmm... loved the trio of times, especially coupled with the tribulation and tectonic scrapes; the waveland down & outs matched in the ghostly figures of Milton's wonderful illustration. A somber, but somehow beautiful, processional.

9:00 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Thank you, Anno. You owe it to yourself to search out the Peter Milton Hidden Cities plates. Davidson Galleries? I am molto smitten.

9:08 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Very moving. Loved the music, illustration, and your words. I'm still processing it ... a little bit of sensory overload with an overwhelming plea, "Please sir, may I have some more?"

9:41 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Glad you liked, Sister T. Gotta be more porridge enough for all of us, girl. Pony your bowl on up to the bar, cher.

4:41 PM  

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