Gartenweg mit Hühnern (Garden Path with Chickens), by Gustav Klimt. 1917 |
tales of a fool's razor-ed edge
I say...
why engage my humanity
outside of sublime evolution
why not be
a maple blossom
brief blink
yes, I put my eyes under the spell
of shade wobble shadow theater
streetlights and serenades
cobblestone condensates
surveillance cameras
I imagined were wrought iron poles
topped with flickering gas lamps...
I find myself always briefly
debriefing entrances
in choice knock, bell or toll
a lone thought
awl ways bought
taut bone to flesh
in wolf step by step
number painted patterns
the lambs, I understand now...
I am in
my own movie set luxury
I remember by season
each landscape I weaned myself from
I watch my highlight films
in the burnt narrows of nostalgia
I channel more sentiment and fondness
the farther from my youth I get
in order to obtain
any wisdom
from my sordid
for this poem
EJR ©
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