That I am


I am the chastised rainbow,
the dark and soft anarchy
that calls this crown by name
in times of utter beauty
and leaves the crotch to the wind.

I am the echo of someone past
that in the earlier present
set a possible future response
that I am, or was,
whereas poetry, in this case,
is nothing but an honest window.

I am my own follower
all the way down to the river bank.
Cash here might be withdrawn
with the slow murky tide
of poor discontent.

Woe to the one that must do
in crisis and acid elevations
what the day itself concedes,
one or two more points
to the common loser.




Poetry by Bob
Read 559 times
Written on 2008-05-21 at 23:02

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