Some Tricks I Can Do with Squares
Hundreds of square geese
flying in tight formation.
A huddled group of prostitutes
on the grid of Omaha streets.
A sad square careworn
map of my most desperate fears
as they exist on the fields
and farmlands of my mind.
The fracture eye of a honeybee,
therein reflected a hundred ginger lilies.
A thousand of the lived-in
boxes of Hooverville,
cardboard apostles of desperation.
My first memory is a visit
to the stonebreaker's house. The hills
outside of town, square and neatly
arrayed. The son steps softly,
shows me their hammers.
Sledges for the reassembly
of boulders into rubble.
I certainly like the poem. To me, the end and beginning seem unconnected. At the "My first memory..." line, that occurs. Could you intertwine the geese into the end, some repeated image to link them?
ReplyDeleteIt might just be me, but "therein" feels odd.
I love this: "cardboard apostles of desperation." line
good poem. you read it well.