Sunday, September 30, 2012

fall 'n symbols
(a recalcitrant response to Longfellow’s Harvest Moon)


withered roses in the smitten cold
a way of nimbly nipping at the bud
thorns that bloom in vain within the folds
of gorgeous sentient clips that smite the edges
lining organs intended to be pumps
that simply fill our beating veins with blood
but all this pompous verbiage beheld
has rendered vital parts obscene
among the pages of our pithy sighs
depending on the us of this and that
we’d better fill our days with trimming hats
with full blown maids arranging plastic flowers
culled from curtained stalls of ancient showers
alas this synonymic woe and gracious me
redundant triplets cowering in the storm
giving life and love tendentious form

if there are song birds 
listening to these words
gobble up and graze among the stanzas
your empty nest withholds a new apartment
for gold winged brides in groomed saffron organza

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