Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Another Cup of Tea

The Nazis drove through Paris.
Elvis got fat and died.
Babe Ruth was supplanted by Maris.
The President lied.
     I have survived a number of shocks.

You were young, you were beautiful, you said
My heart is a halo of flame.
I haven't heard if you are still dead,
But no one knows your name.
     Backward reel the clocks.

Our trees are green again this year.
The drainpipes drain to the sea.
Somebody pops a Mexican beer,
But love was your cup of tea:
Till the stars collapsed and the sun burned out
And everyone learned beyond a doubt
     Love is a plate of cold rocks.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Poetry Proper

Issue 1 of Poetry Proper is now available at

Worth your attention, if only because Paul Maddern is co-editor and it contains 2 poems by one of my favorite poets.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

No Pruning Hooks

Assuming it survived, the vine would pull
The back fence down, assuming that it throve
And neither burned nor drowned, nor in a fit
Of fad became a vegan course for pests,
Of which this yard has plenty—all the block,
If truth be told, and what are vines, if not
A place to sit and tell the truth and beat
Our swords to silent crepitude? And if
The fence should fall, then we could see beyond
Each other, all those pests beyond the pale,
As those within, superior and still
And pulled towards peace—that is, if it survived.
And if it failed, we still could have a fence.