Vendors on Xanadu subway
hawk their effigy food,
plasticware and paper napkins
next to a ticket booth.
A balladeer by a staircase
sings out the wrongs of our planet.
She holds an object carved of polished wood,
open at both ends, hollow as a drum:
a woman’s torso.
Punctuating lament, she
hits her eerie cylinder with a stick.
We all walk home, hungry.
What Once Was Darkness
rare choice in the palette
imbued with television glow.
Mark Blaeuer, a gentleman of 58 who lives in the wilds of Arkansas, has had poems in dozens of magazines over the years, including: Asphodel Madness, The Camel Saloon, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and The Found Poetry Review.
corso tips a beer to Coleridge.ReplyDelete
and that greek god, now on info-mercials...