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Month: February 2010

Our love for your notes and regrets

We finally come out at dawn with
the emergency phones ringing up and down the street,

-no particular order
like Stardust for
and crystal tumblers

one headlight on the latest ornament passed out on the lawn
and one pointing up into the moths in the night
the car idles and you go in for the photo
and/or phone number
of the one that got away

The sacking of Troy

Aeneas narrates, chardonnay and the oddly odored cheese gesturing at eye level, and he brays on this wholesome and futile bitterness, and the vengeance that was borne of it, crackers spraying throughout:

Blood ran in torrents, drenched was all the earth,
As gallerists and their alien helpers died!
Here were men lying quelled by bitter death
All up and down the city in their blood.1

Aeneas coordinates evacuees, grouping them by waiting and by action, and many tissues are guttered and grants are pulled, while the buses idle:

All sleepy miners now,
projecting with eye,
reflecting on nil,
like a glimmer off a black exhausted coal vein

Aeneas dances and sculpts perceptions, and is rightly great with song:

Virtuous pagans, we!
Hoisting the Penates and yet
drifting down the river by twos and threes
we still sparkle, shimmer and shine


1paraphrased from Posthomerica, Quintus Smyrnaeus