Three triplets



On Tradition


I too was told to stand

in a corner in time,

like Grace Slick. In her case,


she punched out open space

through the walls, but I am

climbing over the one


labeled future. That done,

two solid barricades

will keep me from the past.




Poetic Justice


Hear the chorus! Poets

from Homer and Lao-tse

rocking, down in their tombs,


and rolling. Look! From wombs

interpreters increase

(cheating old overworked


Death). But feel Earth quake! Irked,

the Mother of mothers

will quit. Then peace at last.






The plum of William

Carlos Williams grows

on you. First you mark


it as some strange dark

plant product, subdued

though intriguing. Then


when you look again

you bite: mm mm, so

you eat the whole thing.





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