5/14/07

Certain tropes or descriptions you don't repeat
because they do not contribute to the meaning,
along with images extraneous and unsurpassing.
There are similes that are dead ends. And metonyms
that are fenceposts without palings to be fences.

And there are lines in print that I refuse to scold.
As if these lines were offspring with a shorter life-span.
Going nowhere, already buried in paper and ink.

Hear whose name who lies in water written.
Here whose water lies his name. Whose name lies.
Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
Here lies water, whose name was writ.

Bludgeon, blunt axe. Eric Bloodaxe--stand up, please!
So all can see you. Your mother would like you to call.
And your papa wishes you well.

He was, however, impaled on a stake,
still sending best wishes from over the Carpathians.

He continually complains of discomfort,
and we're looking for a homeopathic therapist or acupuncturist.
Who that is however should be beside the point
(no pun intended, but what is the point?)

By the time you land a deal, the songs are stale,
as ossified water, if that makes any sense.

Stale as water in which particles of half-digested bone meal
float in ethereal gestures.

We hear he was impaled on a stake
so we are sending our condolences.
We'll be enrolling our grandson in pre-school.
Band practice will not be cancelled.