UNDERWATER LAMENTATION
No specious words, nothing without value -
this entire world is hemmed in by loathing.
There's a white picket fence sagging along
the back lot; needing paint as well, its tone
bespeaks a bedraggle world. The landscape
itself just bobs and weaves. Try following
that with your hand or eye.
-
Like studying Van Gogh, only to find he traced;
or following Duchamp to learn only that he'd
piss anywhere - no urinal ever needed, Mr. Mutt.
High tides and higher endings -
so many things the same.
-
I have viewed a lot of things in my sorry days -
Montmarte in the hoariest weather, Angkor Wat
when it was good. All together, I'd trade my
shinload of memories for a spoonful of what
you can give : largesse and benevolence, an
underwater lamentation straight from the heart.
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