
DAILY PHOTO: Nam Song Blue Bridge
Reply



late Autumn:
the last few leaves
refuse to fall.

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles, halt!
Damned universal cock, as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.
Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.
You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!
Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,
Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,
And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.






If I can spark the occasional smile of amusement or trigger a line of thought once in a while, that’s enough. In the long run, it’s all dust. (That latter commentary was more on the thought-provoking than the amusing side of the equation.)

cold Spring day:
feels too chilly
to be so green.