Poetry From a Rag-Tag Burnt Out Butt-End of a Day


I'll share with you as a précis of the day, one long observation of people meeting.

Closed Meeting
Two Haikus and Two Quatrains on Eternity
The buzzing of these human bees
rapidly threatens to deafen me.

Round and round and round
and round and round and round and round
it starts out being just like words
and ends up merely sound

I have learned my great
ideas are made of air.
I shall swallow them.

Do these vibrations try the air
the way they try my ear?
Thank God they go, I don't know where,
just anywhere but here.

© 2002, Steven Riddle

Sheer unadulterated doggerel. But hey at least it's unadulterated.

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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on November 7, 2002 4:50 PM.

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