Author: David Wright

BRICKs ferried to the kiln in rhythm, a
METER to their pace, castle of the
GNOMEs rising into its walls, workers
ASHEN from the effort: kings cost a price.

RADAR not yet a blip in Watt’s mind, the
FOAMY seas crossed by trapping wind, sailors
ELATEd when scurvy does not strike, Indonesia’
S TEAK pre-eminent for crafting craft.

BEGUN the coup, seizing main chance,
DEBAR the noisome jet boat from our small harbor.
CLINK not, dead of night, man softly the
KAYAK, prepare to board. Come morning, the mystery of the empty slip!

FILMY mists lifting, gathering, swirling.
NADIR of a grey season, yet somewhere above the
BELLY of the locked-in valley, the sun blazes,
FULLY resplendent. When will clouds lift?

TODAY, the steady light is a gift. When dusk falls, the light will
OMBRÉ, fade from yellow and warmth into pools of blue and grey.
WEDGE of dusk will give way, night take charge–navy, coal, night,
MECCA for dreamers, imaginers, ponderers whose minds soar away from the now.

KOALA Lumpur, oft misspelled, much to Malay
GROANing, yet cacography is everywhere a small concern.
AGING, for individual and nation, much greater.
DRIFT toward negative growth. What comes next for any country?

SNAKY branching through the bayou, river wends its
WEEDY course. Down below, the sight lines truncate. Above,
HAUTEur bouying him in flight, eagle watches every motion,
TALONs at the ready. Soon, he plummets, strikes.

SPILL-way to the Styx—the awaiting shades have held
VIGIL of years, expecting tyrant’s soul,
BLIND as he to the day. Yet, it will arrive, his splash down as they
RAISE the customary jeer, the welcome to eternal non-importance.

WATCH for the truth of yourself.
SALVE the wounds, patch the holes.
FLOWN by the moments, and receding.
GRAPH? Bend it upward in this stretch!

RATTY carpets, ratty sofas.
VAPID arguments, blaring screens.
FRAIL old age of the culture. Pull the
DRAPEs and sleep until its done?