Saturday, April 5, 2008

A Good Poem

On Death of Aeroplane
Or planetcrush in morning obscured by sun

A procession in several dresses And the Sapphire of the moment

is Overwhelming

Their eyes of course the lean of their hair their course steps

are placement

Several feet below the dresses in the Metrioric Ground the gourd the hallow

is a Fruit

A Redder-plum earth, pride in several cantilevers lowering the coffin at

Orion’s feet

His sandaled lower levels accompanies in Bowstring, a Minor C

of Love

Spherical Dawn remember me, the coast, the drying Shore of Earth. the Somber Costa

Del Sol

Albino clouds, The unction curtain of bones the dying precious

Engines is

A Pleiades of Suction, of Horizon/successive, the next sobering wave of Oven

Gravitas/Space

Bleat Bleat Bleat the heavens and the waves upon translucent Space translucent

in the Skys

Aviator wings and yet the starlings left tailside droop and are such that as the plane

crash morning

Summons so much fervor all the papers dredge the scene for news, No survivors say the headlines

say the Pleiades

No Survivors say the sunshine rush, the crunch and cruel of Traffic nor the blue something

of the Pleiades

Nevermore the apple cut clean of airplane air, Nor the deepest burial, goodbye night sky

Goodnight

Several moments to impact still the people they are ready, hand in hand and waiting

for the drop

Most Gods are late, some earily tap their watches, let’s get this over with say the oldest ones

to God

Several more seconds later and the last cloud layer and the Pilots all lean back

This is it they’re Sure

A Cabin’s worth of certainty/silently broken fairly by a whimper is camaraderie and

the Pleiades

Their weeping sowing breast purge the scene of sorrow, the Assurance in their steps, the tilling

of the Grave

No Survivors | The Broken Wing | there is Jet Fuel everywhere | We’ve Left footprints

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