QUAIL at rising tide, storm-hauled inundation, joined with—strange combination—
DRIER land, cracked and barren, sifted into dust.
GIVEN we, as grasshoppers scoffing winter, devour all in lust,
PLACE is no constant, infirm future no foundation.
Category: ohthatwright
Koala Revenge
KOALA reposed in tree dreaming of reverse.
BUILD cuteness overload into Koala take on humans, give them lovable
SCAMP reputation, saddle them with obsession about the leaves they eat, everyone
NOSEY about all their ways. Ha, humans, enjoy rumors of your cuddliness!
Our own inventions
PRONG one and two, new era’s moves—assign them signs:
GRAPH, knowledge harnessed for power of prediction.
WITCH, resupplying missing mystery by inventing spirits.
VOILA! Now deeply drink from wells of self and choice; the self-made do not pray to gods.
Fragile Beauty
FULLY submerge into a beautiful aria from the stereo:
PURER moment, touch of transcendence. Then wafts over a
FISHY cooking smell from neighbors, followed by candidate’s jarring
KNOCK on front door. Maybe I need a stronger concept of beauty.
No escape
CHINA softly clinks in parlor’s quiet.
FAINT fear stirs: no margin here for mind to wander.
BONEY, her grandmother’s hand rises, falls, rises, falls for tea time’s rite.
GAFFE?—one lies along this labyrinth’s every path.
Tapir herd
DELTA river branches out as tree crown where it meets the ocean.
ROTOR, holds us suspended to scan for needle, to
QUOTE the pilot from before lift-off at New Orleans: The escaped
TAPIR pair may not be found. Can they found a Delta herd?
Whitman’s Thrush
THIRD rock from the sun, zoomed in on wetlands,
SLIMY, ooze and muck richly specied.
SUNNY days, binoculars out, this kingdom might be
AVIAN: kingfishers dive, while Whitman’s thrush warbles.
Excerpt from Whitman’s When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d:
Low Rent Moment
MOTEL, finally! 900 miles and a terrible burger at the end to calm the
GROWL of my queasy stomach. I lie down, check the TV. A Raquel
WELCH B movie. Hours later I wake, the burger feeling like a
TUMOR in my gut and the TV blaring: low rent moment.
Inheritance
WASTE: time, soul, life ebb out on lapsarian tide.
CRAVE more! But know: to crave is to pray.
HAUNT, o God, each time, place and quark with memory of future splendor and present grace.
YOUNG and old have only you for inheritance that is not waste.
Droit du Seigneur
GLINT in my eye, as I hear faith likened to
OPIUM again. Tired tactic, trite and worn.
WORSE: you lay claim to noetic
DROIT du seigneur: please yourself in your beliefs, ravage another’s.