Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Verse: unmanned

you called us

not the nomenclature
I would have chosen

at least not
for you

while I sully
clean white sheets
with impetuous
and inchoate ardor

while I toil
at torturous
little bibelots
and solecisms
that I deny
and abrogate

you, with
laser precision
adorn the tenuous
night sky with
cool ebullience
tiny satellites
impervious to time

You would not
have it so
but I would call you
poet, priestess
many other things
imprecise things

all this
so you know
that when you
do offer your
uncannily indelible

it is like
in my
inarticulate heart

No comments:

Post a Comment