Gag Order
After the tide
took care, there were left
coathangers.
Their metal jetter
than jackdaw–how sharply
they gyred.
The men urging the tide,
the men who’d made
pity less, used only
wooden hangers, fit for an artifice
of shoulder, patting down empty suits
in ceremonies
of shiny serge
while the women’s insides tattered,
poor women.
*******************
Draft poem for Kerry O’ Connor’s Get Listed prompt on With Real Toads to use certain words from Yeats.
Voice Calling for Personal Change
The voice in my head does not
cry wolf,
still it despairs
of being listened to,
though its timbre’s sharp
as glisten on fresh snow–
but oh how it carps,
and always on a per diem–
so, I pay it
no mind,
until its call fades to shadow
in a cave,
if shadows were furred, fanged, clawed,
if caves flattened
into fields,
and as if fresh snow
still glistened somewhere
which it surely does
at least for a little longer,
as if, too, my personal change
could actually affect all that–things
like snow
and glisten
and wolves.
******************
drafty sort of poem for Brendan’s prompt on Real Toads about voices in our heads, and also for open link night. Drawing is mine but based on diorama at the American Museum of Natural History in New York.
Night Voice
It recites repeatedly The Lord’s Prayer,
sometimes The Lake Isle of Innisfree,
but mostly a simple Dear God,
pleas to carry this clay,
and all its wattles,
through the purple glow
to the next eye opening.
***************
Short poem for Brendan’s prompt on Real Toads to write about voices one hears. The Lake Isle of Innisfree is one of my favorite poems in the world, by W.B. Yeats; it begins, “I will arise and go now.” Pic is mine; all rights reserved.
Keep faith.
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