May 18, 2015

tales of a fool's razor-ed edge...

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


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