Monday, November 7, 2011

Flatiron

Our pupils sketched
the horizon-lines,
the somnolent zig-zag
of jagged rock
and waning day –
alighting upon
& abandoning
all the half-starved
epiphanies

(which remained in
their original packaging
as if cardboard and plastic

could become
a softer kind
of love,
a sturdier sort
of faith. )

The night taught us
more than patience.

1 comment:

  1. This is a really great poem, you are always progressing and honing your craft. I can't find a stanza I don't like, and I like the innovation between the question marks. Great ending too, the tension throughout the poem is intense, and the ending hits hard. I guess you could get rid of the period though, the poem might flow on without one.

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