Saturday, June 27, 2009

The Brave One

I’d marry Jodie Foster, if only to fatten
and teach her what God wants from us
or would if God tramped the planet in
the finite, clueless on enlightenment.

Humanity’s an abrupt artform, tolerated
by the pageant and caught, a filigree in
the pretty scrapbook, amber, held to
sparkling effulgence.
Our marvelous
past’s in your palm; conjecture polished
by Scheherazade’s scramble for more.

In the Sudan, Jimmy Carter was stonewalled.
Let’s agree there’s something holy in the story
slipped into his pocket by a walking filigree.

And Jodie Foster?
Recites Emily Dickinson
gems as she prowls New York for the usual
reason: to kill until she’s moved past the pain.

(pub. in Sprung Formal/Kansas City Art Institute, 2009)

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