The quiet of the naked trees release
The spores of pity. Chevrons, white and red,
From blackbirds flash. Mechanicals are still.
Ascending from a silent fairy land
Life groans, gripped by winter that has overstayed
It’s times. The ceanothus pushes out
Against a past where Arthur and Sir Gawain
Are holding still beneath the meadow oaks—
Burnt alarums shutter thought and time
Is needed to release the anger, pain
While redbuds, dogwoods struggle for the sun.
Wait, oppressive, suffocates the hope
That struggles trapped beneath a shattered land.
5″ x 7″ linocut on Somerset paper with black Graphic Chemical ink.
The Punjab of the Zoo
In the Punjab grey-haired tigers roar unheard
And elephants are swinging by their tales.
“Remember when the coronets were herding
Sharps and Flats into the water hole
Where they attacked the muddy, clashing teeth?”
Ponderously pound, pound the words themselves
To mash, mush for toothless minds to trumpet
Thoughtless crumpets, crippled by design—
Staggering around with thoughtless minds maimed
By alcohol and academic”
“Butterflies are feeding. Floating danger’s
sucking out the meaning, understanding, myth.”
Philofiles, sophistry, delightful obfuscations
Coruscate, reverberate, reverberate, re . . . .