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kingtycoonThere's a sound in the soundless
noisy ether
There are poems &
Rumors of poems
And I'm told with confidence
(which confidence rises from a lack of ventured trouble)
That this is April
& cruel or not it's the season for daffodils
& poetry
Easy compliance breeds compliance
without complaint - I'm game
so gamely go along
Having seen the best minds of my generation
destroyed by startups binging in the car-strewn streets at all hours
So go along, go along easy into that good-time.
But earnest too - like I was born in innocence
& gained yet more through experience
I resolve to read & this morning in the misty April dawn
I ponder
Colderidge
on my phone.
ON the dawn-treading bus I read the Ancient Mariner's Rime
& speculate idly about the ancient bus-captain
& suppose his rime to likely be an earnest rendition
of Marvin Gaye
No albatross is harmed but
traitor geese
pierce the fog
in honking misshapen V's
It's morning in a world that isn't, not without the intervention of words
The young man mutters
tuneless rapping on the bus & I
& a young father laugh and everyone sighs
to see him go at last at Last
to leave our bus alone & sing his music in another room
And do I dare?
& Do I dare to go to work with this bald spot in my hair
& With everyone carelessly share
these compulsory lines- given easily & away
noisy ether
There are poems &
Rumors of poems
And I'm told with confidence
(which confidence rises from a lack of ventured trouble)
That this is April
& cruel or not it's the season for daffodils
& poetry
Easy compliance breeds compliance
without complaint - I'm game
so gamely go along
Having seen the best minds of my generation
destroyed by startups binging in the car-strewn streets at all hours
So go along, go along easy into that good-time.
But earnest too - like I was born in innocence
& gained yet more through experience
I resolve to read & this morning in the misty April dawn
I ponder
Colderidge
on my phone.
ON the dawn-treading bus I read the Ancient Mariner's Rime
& speculate idly about the ancient bus-captain
& suppose his rime to likely be an earnest rendition
of Marvin Gaye
No albatross is harmed but
traitor geese
pierce the fog
in honking misshapen V's
It's morning in a world that isn't, not without the intervention of words
The young man mutters
tuneless rapping on the bus & I
& a young father laugh and everyone sighs
to see him go at last at Last
to leave our bus alone & sing his music in another room
And do I dare?
& Do I dare to go to work with this bald spot in my hair
& With everyone carelessly share
these compulsory lines- given easily & away
