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Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Porcelain Clarity

I sat with the Marine Sergeant Major,
retired, shot up over Bosnia, but full
of  reaction, sipping beer, playing with 
the odds that he would kill me for no
reason.
at

1 comment:

  1. John TischerJanuary 17, 2009 at 6:22 PM

    This really happened. That's why the title deserves the
    poem.

    Or, how the title and the poem reflect each other's
    snapshot like mirrors looking into each other.

    Right now we speak through electrons.

    Soon we will speak through subtle plasma.

    Or else, I'm wrong.

    But, not so far.

    ReplyDelete