by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | CA, PR
Prospero’s Priorities: He Goes Straight Out the Door My cat believes that he should be a cat. He knows that he’s conflicted in this thing: He thinks he’s tip top, an aristocrat, And so deserves each comfort I can bring Such as a heated mat and that his man Should...
by phillipw | Dec 16, 2019 | RI, VE
A Very Bulldog Welcome The day Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine arrived Together, London was in lovely light. At least it should have been. The sun, deprived Of autumn glory, cringed from urban blight. The coal-fire chimneys’ vileness forced Verlaine To write,...
by phillipw | Dec 15, 2019 | TR
London against Eternity A little tree beside the motorway Holds out a few slight branches to the light. Five hundred tiny blossoms have their say. They speak against London, with petals, white, But it looms high on their horizon. Steel And glassy skyscrapers blot...
by phillipw | Dec 15, 2019 | BA, DE
Rimbaud Wrote, “We are in the months of love” No. Poets are the mouths of love. That kid Was wrong from early on. He sent that line To Théodore, who early saw the skid This lice-filled fiend would slide down. Evil swine, Archangel eyed, his lips snagged only one...
by phillipw | Dec 15, 2019 | AR, BA, DE, RI
The Months of Love On May 24, 1870, Rimbaud wrote a letter from Charleville to Théodore de Banville, leader of a group of poets in Paris. Maybe each intense blueness is eternal, even if only for the season of love. “Dear Master, We are in the months of love And...
