by Bill Yarrow
The moonlight news is brutal:
compassion has been voted down.
Human decency has been vandalized.
The honed stones have started to float.
The siblings of the siblings will never be born.
The last of Che Guevara is being eaten by rats.
A meager third of a century will be devoted to love.
The green heart of the red planet turns transcendentally dark.
The last piece of pie may remain the last piece of pie.
A man with sighs for eyes sits under a yew tree.
He watches acorn after acorn fall into sodden leaves:
He watches the past advance on the instability of the present.
The future, he tells himself, is the real èmigrè.
He bows his neck to the pagan razor of displacement.
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This poem appeared in The Del Sol Review, #18.
Thanks, Derek Alger!
It appears in POINTED SENTENCES (BlazeVOX 2012) in a different form under the title "Chaos Unveiled."
I remember.*
"The honed stones have started to float." Wow. That's some mouth feel.*
Strong poem. "He watches the past advance on the instability of the present." Check mark (Like). *
Yikes. You were in a dark place the day this was scripted. I get that. Ain't it grand we can write it down and get rid of all that?
Bravo.
The pagan razor of displacement, indeed.
Good poem, Bill.
"The future, he tells himself, is the real èmigrè." Good poem.*
I like this a lot.
Nice one Bill ~ this really works ~ the form, rhythm, words and images ~ in synch and flow. *
Bill, I love the way you put the world into words. *
I'm glad I got around to reading this. At first I found it dark and defeating, but the words on the words brought me around.
a story for our times. a man with sighs for eyes - so telling.
This is stunning, Bill. A tribute to the hope that even the brutal moonlight news can be viewed with com/passion. *