The
PIPER who played on the Isle of
WIGHT played with such a Celtic
VIGOR I had no choice but to give him
CHEEK. He blew a bagpipe raspberry at me.
The Lost, pt. 2
PIPER on stereo entoning Scotland the Brave; where is my courage?
WIGHT still shimmers by the stump in the yard. Rubbing my
CHEEK, I feel warmth. Yet, stump is frozen, your life, your
VIGOR hidden above. I await the great thaw.
This is a continuation of my post from yesterday.
Having found Portly
“PIPER”? The Piper at the Gates of Dawn?
WIGHT, you have been there, seen Him, heard his flute,
CHEEK so enaired to play, to smile? What great
VIGOR this must give you, facing weir and trap!
Cadence
PIPER prepares his fife, his
CHEEK as pale as the
WIGHT haunting his waking hours.
VIGOR is as fleeting as his melody.
2022-12-21 words
PIPER, WIGHT, CHEEK, VIGOR
Off the record
My
GHOUL-friend’s a bit of an alternative
ALBUM, she’s a long-playing record looping
LOOPY when the blunted needle hits a
STUMP in the track…and jumps.
And he begat…
BEGAT’s a word full-full of life, a
SEIZE-the-day squeezing word, a sharp-in-your-face
GEESE-pecking kind of word, rising-from-the-pit
MINER, black-sooted, grin-shining, the-work-is-over sort of word.
Music phases
ALBUM cover looks like a badly drawn
GHOUL, embodying our modern alienation, something
LOOPY like that.
STUMP me to think how I ever went through that phase.
Polaroids
ALBUM in the mind conjures photos of
GHOUL and angel alike.
LOOPY from remembered adrenaline, the
STUMP of amputated chances still itches.
The Lost
ALBUM in the background, beautiful, serene, but I,
GHOUL, gazing on the yard, scry the unseen in vegetation’s decline,
LOOPY specters and shades superimpose as those lost to me:
STUMP is not a missing tree, but you and my memory of you.