A Poetic Offering From an


A Poetic Offering

From an earlier, protosurrealist period.

Rhapsodies in Multiple Colors I Shape them in boxes and do not hope. Legs without minds within the fracture of unopened Earth.

There were fragments
in my eye
          exploded bombs
shards of a window
out, the pressure within.

Don't bother to explain.
You swear on words
formed of air, your meaning
is certain as poison,
large as ether
and collapsing distance
as a bridge.

Where have you been?
The x-ray and then the knife,
conclusion inevitable
as digestion
and unpleasant.

© 2002, Steven Riddle

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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on November 2, 2002 7:07 AM.

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