by phillipw | Mar 9, 2020 | AR, PA, RI, SA, VE
“Operating Live on Poetry” —Delahaye in Divagations So. Just another boozing, druggy day. That’s how French poets’ love affairs are spent. They sit with friends in an ivre café, And Rimbaud says, “Try an experiment, Hommes. Put your hands on the table.” ...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | AR, PA, RI, VE
Narrow Rooms It started in a room made narrow by Paul’s Belle-mère. Lice-doomed Arthur bailed from this Before the bourgeois ones could make him fly At their command. He fled to the abyss, The alleyed chasm of streetlife. When Paul Found Rimbaud after...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | AR, LO, RI, VE
What We Learn in the Great College Street of Knowledge The worst conclusion to a crimson bout Of love is truth. We sniff the smell of facts And they are ugly mumbles. With his snout The poet gets the scent. His heart reacts Like pack hounds to the trail a cognac fox...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | LO, RO
Eleven, that Odd, Unfortunate Number When everything is wrong or slightly wrong, such As sex and love and friendship, all that you can Expect are travesties like using a crutch Pressed into an armpit tumor in a man ….. Endeavoring to walk the world, every part...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | LO, MA, RO
Worst Sexual Position The worst conclusion ever to a bout Of love is not a death, for it is pure Like heat inside the sun, not like a shout Of flaring limb, for death is sure. The worst conclusion ever to a love Is not a fight or argument made up Of accusations,...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | AR, PA, RI, VE
Rimbaud in Camden “an angel in exile” ~ Paul Verlaine Imagine then an exiled angel. How Would he appear, this creature, if he were More real than metaphor? His lids would bow Down over such blue eyes with eyelash fur That azure would become...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | ME
The Woven Cord for Precious Stones I have a cord of gold and silver strung With gemstones. They are hue struck like the leaves Of autumn, spring and summer, winters stung With frost and beauty, and my thought perceives Them as I pull them from the caverns of My...
by phillipw | Mar 8, 2020 | HE, SO
Facebook, SnapChat, and the Death of the Gods Despite his lovely ankles with their wings And all his manliness of shape in youth, Immortal youth, a terrible fact sings Across the myth of Hermes. Here is truth: He’s dead now. Pan was killed at Jesus’s birth...
