texts that change the conscious parameters of literature, both for readers and writers. from a different angle than these, r.p. blackmur adds: 'poetry: [is] ...language so twisted and posed in a form that...it adds to the stock of available reality.' now that blogger has included the ability to reproduce fonts more accurately, alpha-numeric visual-poetry will be welcomed for consideration. formerly edited by peter ganick. send texts to matt margo at firstname.lastname@example.org for consideration...
Saturday, January 12, 2013
poem || Peter-Sherburn Zimmer
before falling off he takes hairs off the keyboard one at a time... grey, crinkled like wire but soft so they hardly rise to his fingers one at a time. he looks into her eyes what eyes? there’s nobody there – just the white computer screen blackened with lines of silent thought. he looks into her eyes, as I was saying, in his mind’s eye: they are grey; they look blue in the setting light; they are red and furious in their passion. for the moon is a-jangle -- the ocean a stick of drift wood -- the afternoon...as warm as a memory. it won’t come back: it is a wand, a candle, a greeting from an owl, a wish left unspoken before it goes dark. he’ll take a string, a rabbit in the cage set free so it won’t die from love. he’ll ask for silence at the end of the day, a whisper from nowhere, a row of letters -- q w e r t y u i o p -- before he’ll turn out the light.