Tuesday, July 22, 2014
poem || Lawrence Upton
A voice heard
All touch in placing; thinking phenomena;
a river whispering, to thrash out security --
Large quiet, an auditory lucidity,
surrounded by sorrow: hum and tongue --
He feels unwilling, followed by commercials;
following advertisements, a cortege.
He thinks perhaps that love might be
when Eurydice was left
in one of two minds
false doors each way
Only bizarre simulacra
Touch to take up gentleness, says Orpheus.
Amuse me, he whines.