After avoiding it all day, playing Full Deck Solitaire,
Klondike 3 Card variation I’m paying the inevitable
price - and winnowing in fields of nice words won’t
be easy; there’re obeisance rituals to observe like
kneeling to hammer the head on a floor scattered
with ambitiously limp & unrecorded epithets in the
vague, vignettes-sense of damp avoidance, there
I’d’ve once said - that’s a poem somewhere - and
Justified tying those threads into viscous sequels,
strands equalling more refined scenery of what it
was going to be; but then whether you’d agree is
the question, and if I’m to defend being less than
diligent as the poet should, maybe I could say it
this way - we all have a day off occasionally
© 17 September 2015, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment