THERE'S NOTHING LEFT
TO DREAM ABOUT
Backwater icicle; cloven hooves of interdiction,
the myriad crystal valleys of Stillwater Grove?
Which one is it you'd want? At every turn is
a candle, going out.
-
I'd never wish the grave for a newborn; nor
the cradle for a 90-year old guy. In each case,
what one gets is always more than meets the eye.
The sound and the fury went out with Faulkner,
I bet, and the Bridge Over the River Kwai is now
a chalkboard circle by Brecht, where still the
Caucasian women meet.
-
At every turn is a candle, going out.
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