Monday, November 22, 2010

Fave Poem of the Day

I love the images in this poem. They are quiet yet, they scream.


Visions of Never Being Heard from Again
by Rebecca Wolff


I stopped by to see you but you were not home
marshland
the pure vision
my ancient lives all risen up and rising


shudder in my bed to come up against
a living religion; they get offended so easily;
blow up your hundred-foot Buddha
no problem. Entire mountainside.


Presumably it's an improvement
on whatever came before
on what was here before
ancestral crypt your daddy built; a grassy hill; a patchwork
quilt; inadequately warming.

0 poetic mutterings: