April is the cruelest month
its evidence washed away
something strange tastes of blame
punctuation was useful once
now wanton words wax poetic again
budding as eustoma petals purple
does not know dying is imminent
still crosses himself before meals
yet sets his feet below the table
Lying as March Lions malinger mendaciously
unreserved in truth as lucid bears grumble May
Seeing Dust in a handful of fear
the forgotten lamb's darling stands
a most inconspicuous spot
a patch within patches
pound for pound the better craftsman
shaven wool facade for a depilated attic
that Delilah once knew
February brings answers falsified in three
blind cries to god; a response: "je suis"
at the bottom by bound feet
Countertops wake only to flee
from December's death rattle discomfort
His cold is only a dream
an unraveling sweater: mental disentanglement
A thread remains hidden in the undertow
Like the suicide note set off to sea
in drowning bottle bent bewildered
Gone...
~By MM, NS, O'R, GS, and TS Eliot
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3 comments:
**Correction Made**
How did TS Eliot get your number anyway?
You know we are all anxiously awaiting you to join us in Smitheringtonville. You can start looking for an apartment today.
Actually - T.S. and I worked on a few lines together......
i asked the dust and it said:
"how dare you!"
i guess it gets offended when you ask it how it got that way.
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