Wednesday, November 20, 2013

uber poet

uber poetry
erasing itself line by line,
jumping around as if
of thought,  without direction,
youthful, energetic...
its yearning  like the pink
aurora borealis,
at the bottom, near to earth,
a plaything of the sun, 
from charged particles
ionizing the atmosphere
above the tundra lichen.

liken that to the quiet scene
of boys in cutoff pants
and sweet girls in taffeta
watching boys in cutoff pants
throw  stones flattened
by glacial rivers,  here now
after a million years, there
selected, drawn and tossed again
this time by children
who ionize the waters
with multiples of of landings
and takeoffs that leave
trails of rippling circles,  
the disturbance of calm.
the uber poet asks,

threw the first stone?

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