Categories
poetry

Still Life With Columns

For Diane Lewis WALK UPRIGHT   COUNT TO TEN DRAW A LINE       GO TO SLEEP Syllabus atop a stool Memento mori, unwillingly. Yorick’s skull just now set down (Like your hand once weighed ideas) Warm erasers, smeared and dark With residue of angel’s wings Wood and steel and acetone Bloodless, in the […]