It’s not the Eucharist either.
They’re both hanging in a gallery in London.
(Hat tip: Klaas de Groot.)
Tag Archives: poetry
That the innocent nest builder
too might be
an emblem of darkness
is a seedy seeing
unseemly to me
pulling at my own
precious house
You had your twilight zones
Where the train went in circles
And
longer than &
but not so long as
ampersand
Much a restless mind
Much too much a
restless mind:
much the blank
and much the bind.
Psalms, the next generation
When we ask ourselves
what this hour is for,
when grief it rains
in the houses next door,
when Pickles the maid
mops up the floor,
and we drop to the basement below:
Then I pick me up
and dust me up
and turn to you, O Tums:
(key of G)
O Tums, Tums,
Tum-tee-tum-tum
Tum-tee-tum-tum-tee-tum-tum!
Upside to the cyclone
New views,
and the wisdom from flips
with outcomes unknown.
Peaceing it together
You, me and the Holy Ghost
Rule of tongue
Say what you mean
and mean what you say,
but don’t be mean
when you mean it today.
Just me
I lied,
but who knew?
Just me
and maybe you.
