Category Archives: Procrastination

“A Pilot’s Flame”

“A Pilot’s Flame”

A pilot’s flame and ambergris, fire and smoke, these privy orizons
As dews appear upon the sight of buds along an early summer’s talk
In the blind behind the backfields; still there is the chill,
a brief Nebraska morning’s walk
Through the shadows’ tides’ abiding shallows
in the breath of dawn; the garden
Path because we share so little
of the masters’ growth in blossoms’ bargains’
Fruits within us both and spare none, no idle chatter,
indeed a pittance of a fee for angels; pillars, cornstalks,
Arm in arm—so much can lead the way to joy within a cosmic room—locked
To one to yet another and another in the repetitious staid negotiation
of noxious clouds and dark but sterile clods, the feeble vain
Attempt to mask indignity in stride until desire’s destination’s
Reached—we know by stealth to find a symmetry in solutions,
Solace in respite from the others at the solstice
of that brief but potent spot.
A proper pole to pierce the continent,
a place we’ve never seen and always sought;
I need nothing more to see your face, to read your book
to savour proctors for procrastination
For the sake of pleasures found in greater prisms
for a lighter thought than pure imagination.

 

 

“With Mild Concession”

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“With Mild Concession”

With mild concession, I consign myself
To oblivion in the bleaching hours, the heat
On one, the rain the other morning and repeat
In each of several sultry summer days. The shelf
Is dusty, floors are masked with soiled à meld
From weeks of traffic and debris, conceit
Upon the crowns of crass procrastination and defeat
And even neo-lethal in princpio moltissimo if held
For more than seconds in the fray and din that spells
Desire or want or all that we are wont to hedge the streets
Of our unequalled Americo-Euro afternoons that lead to night.
Oh, I would have it differently, indifferent to the pattern
That I bear witness and allegiance to in virtual existence.
But decades after the discovery, I’ve more common sense
Than to suppose that there is any real escape; tight
The bonds and tighter still addiction to nocturnal lanterns.

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