Sunday, October 26, 2014

poem || Lawrence Upton


                                                                                             for various socially mobile
                                                                                             shepherds, steersmen, and sailors
                                                                                             in satirical mood, in drag for women's roles

If we were familiar,
cloned of each other --
But we are not,
speaking rhetorically,

knowing the fear of chaos
in which we live.

It would not be so rewarding
as fantasised,
a fondant dream
not fondness.

Gooey as we both are
when we are talking,
we do not take off
but tack and copy,
stuck where we are
to our papers, and dream of flying
in which we do not believe

We imitate each other,
sweet in our isolation,
feeding each other with feared words;
leaving the risks of  romance
to silence when we've rung off

Might as well put faith
in reflections, muddling
excitement and creativity
or a fire with the warmth it gives.

Peers demonstrate their liberty
in very small spaces,
in their limited Arcadia,
pursuing pursuant bare necessities.

Beyond one's property
propriety matters,
to avoid guns

The individual standing out
lets the world move  yet
against him:
political animals --
and this flatters men --
devour one's idiolect.
One breaks fast.

Hercules sucks yoghurt
and acts cagey

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