mardi 7 décembre 2010


it's 4:40 and dark as mud
they've changed the clocks
to accommodate the
bean counters
no one likes their beds
calling them at 7
and each one knows
there will be no recovery
inside where it counts

everything will stay
heavy and off balance
until the maiden comes
with her bloated apron
of seeds and wildflowers
for summer wheat
and after the scattering
lays herself down
and accepts into her own
the sun's great body

edvard munch, winter night, 1923

2 commentaires:

John Walter a dit…

Man, I love the way you build to the final astounding image here, Laura.

Moineau En France a dit…

thanks, john. recently, i've been sensing an angular, jutting form to my lines, as in the first verse here. my syntax is out of whack, even in the alice poem. it bothers me, makes me think about the increasing difficulty of pulling this stuff out of my brain... but it's what is happening so i guess i'm going with it, though i do try to edit out the sharpest variations...