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Adalbert is a forum for me, to post ephemera, photography, poetry, occasional travel notes, and various spontaneous motions. Cover photo: Parsonage where my great-grandfather spent his early years. Taken near Liegnitz, Silesia, ca. 1870.

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Sunday, August 30, 2009

nostalgia


to continue with the mixing of old and new stuff, this is a prose poem from some years back:

Atmosphere and Clackamas

JF


Unwieldy passage of the sun, white, through the keyhole of the old birch hill.
Blue rabbits in fields and thickets.
The cigarettes still smoulder in far-away rooms,
The Son of Man, cuffs in rock burrows, head in lines of blowing trees, lawnmowers, and fading thistles.

Amputated yukata of the early morning because
His face becomes a heavy black rhinoceros horn.
Hangover carves the inky bluffs,
Meet at the Seven Stars.

Blue mist charging and climbing,
Storm shaking stars and fir.
Alphorns sounding over lamaseries lorn,
Thibetan femurs ring beyond cromlech and rise.

1 comment:

  1. unemployed thumping harassment of mediocre mutations mine the field in my way of playing, tantamount to the tatter of the miracle of Marx and the end of capital

    ism there yet?

    ReplyDelete