Monday, June 13, 2011

Question. Is poetry impossible without a question at least implied?

The known (as harbor and/or terra firma) and the unknown (sea and/or inquiry) are tangled. Perhaps a poem? For sure, Kelp comes to mind. Many uses. Sometimes discarded: a nuisance.


I have learned to love seaweed salads -- cold crush. Unexpected. Hint of brine; slant of question, "Where from?" "Where to?"

1 comment:

  1. After this passage let's have some oysters
    I've watched the bridge get hot enough for one day
    All scenes but these taste the same
    eloquent mud in a health spa
    folded hands in the dark
    It's time and the breeze is fresh
    iced
    forgone

    ReplyDelete