February 28, 2009

Poet Watching

Gloomy word-cloud shadows
bump and grind together,
shedding dada mirrors--
yellow, orange, red.
Grammar is begotten,
tit for tat. The pretty ones
adjust their wings, preen and sing--
but alone in the gap beyond the end
of the world, I'm too busy to respond.

5 comments:

The Wholesome Satyr said...

One hopes your poet has more time and does respond tho :)

Paul said...

There's something about these poems which deny themselves. I need a word for them. The poem says you are alone and too busy and yet it is itself a response and a communication. It's a very well made poem too.

Agnes said...

Contradiction? Paradox? Bologna?

Paul said...

Inner-rotating paradoxically inverted mind spiral with twist? Maybe just bologna, it's easier to type.

Agnes said...

I'll buy that.