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propelled
what
is the most useful thing in the world?
all of the universe holding its breath
desert
island scene
everything
about to be
to
do its being stuff
a
sun stuck setting
the
moon getting dressed
then
this meteoric fall
the
sea above the dreaming
all
waiting for me to decide
what's
the most useful thing in the world?
everything
fresh
much
older than the rites of witness
green
grass more ancient
than
the watching mantis
or
this warm blooded new arrival
the
one with wings who soars
sun's
the newest of them all
what
fool was it thought of fire?
there's
so much junk to choose from
at
last the island chooses you
what
have you brought?
what
would you keep?
how
will you hang yourself up
between
palms?
all
through life
this
voice
couldn't
work out
whether
I pursued it
or
it me
old
scratchy recordings
washed
up
couldn't
make out a word
here's
the sacred river running
and
here are the cities of the plain
clay
feet
Ozymandias
off with the clouds
is
it sarong or sausage
pillow
or portmanteau?
nothing
more useful than a poem
it
turns the day around
this
bread for the hungry soul
makes
up for almost any lack
these
are the tears that wouldn't have come
that's
what a poem can do
last
thing I heard was a death bed confession
just
a bunch of mumbles
the
benediction mine
between
the lines
when
life was lived
in
the very breath
of
words
when life was lived
ReplyDeletein the very breath
of words
I love that.... sounds like an epitaph, doesn't it!!