Friday, December 30, 2016

Robert Verdon, #401, theft

recurring nightmare of the trial

your job threatened by a machine
‛entrepreneurs’ can be automated too
(as Brecht said, hangmen also die)

winter is tossed into the air, summer falls
no connection between my melancholy
and the wind of change

property harrowed by its own issue
as Christ harrowed hell
and the unnameable
ache of outliving your children
butterfly forever broken
crucified as we are between creation
and the ancient clock until
life is just another hairspring of tears


  1. How I love your mind your sensibility, Robbie, thank you for the gift of your poems this year (and always)

  2. You're very welcome Sarah, hope you're having a good break! :)


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