Applaud a glorious sunset
Look forward to a clean river
Throw horseshoes up a mountain
Take me to a good restaurant
Give me more scar tissue
Cicadas at the end of time
Dying of our diffidence
Accelerating the people's misery
And that was how it was
In the days of the toxic haze
Punching out poem after poem
As comrade Hemensley wrote
"Time (again) to think & say clearly
What Poet is, what poetry is
As not an element of however
Sexy a vis-à-vis. Anyway..."
Anyway the bloody scars
I'm a bloated technologist
Living in a blighted city
The worst place on the planet
Looked back like Eurydice
That was all she wrote
Orpheus taking up the slack
(If anyone's still listening...thank you. This is the last of these scar poems, though certainly not the last of the scars. Woundedness would never be a fit subject in a sane world... Well, I'm kind of simple - one reason I write is because I want everything in the world to be better.)
ReplyDeleteRob, this poem is indeed a fitting tribute (or finale might be the better word) to your scar poems. I've enjoyed the scar poem series ... though as you write, it doesn't signal the last of the scars or the woundedeness. And, yes, I think a lot of us (lawless poets...) write because we dearly wish for everything in the (our?) world to be better :)
DeleteThanks for listening, dear Kristen.
ReplyDelete