Between the Jagged Rocks
|
|
the sainted pond,
a tao of tadpoles
flexes once again
|
jec |
young grasses bow
between the jagged rocks
|
nd |
hawthorn blossom
red, as if the Saxons
shed your blood
|
jec |
a rope tied here and there
with holy knots
|
nd |
every seven years
the book says
all the slaves go free
|
nd |
snow so high we
couldn't get to school
|
jec |
a moonlit dram
my only fuel
this freezing night
|
nd |
sweet poetry
the mistress of excess
|
jec |
sheathed in silk
and pheromones and fags
those rugged pecs
|
jec |
my lover's lover's face
a distant land
|
nd |
the carbon tax
does little to offset
our sense of guilt
|
jec |
disagreeing to agree
the G8 summit
|
nd |
a heatwave forecast
in the near abroad
let's go serfing!
|
nd |
f*** the blarney stone
just kiss my ass
|
jec |
Fibonacci's fingers
fiddle with his
worry beads
|
nd |
numbering the faithful
crescent moon
|
jec |
a cool wind blows
the memories of ash
across Manhattan
|
jec |
the falling leaf
knows only now, and now
|
nd |
