the green tea steeped and a word
came to mind but slid out again
there was steam and dark French
chocolate with an essay, all after lunch
it started with L, if I recall correctly
and had a sense of ease to it unlike
the black hole concept which could rip
someone apart through a time warp
maybe it was languorous but that’s doubtful
because there were too many people to treat
for anything to stretch itself across thought
and despite the steam there wasn’t much heat
lynch doesn’t work in these beheading days
with real time being collapsed and inserted
through electronica which used to be considered
hooey as much as any bedangled medium hum
until the thrust of neuro-juice propels the recall
forward, these meager place holders will have to do
stand-ins all for that one linguistic specificity which
when said, or read, like lust will resonate nature
Barbara Joan, you know that I even have criticisms of great poems, like this one. I don’t like the verb “to be” in poems, but admit sometimes it belongs. I may BE just an old crank. I love the poem. You could
the green tea steeped and a word
came to mind but slid out again,
there steam and dark French
chocolate with an essay, all after lunch
as an example. I took out all the “to be” from “Storm” by HD and I have an adolescent crush there. Your music swings, your image of thought, social and idiolectic, precisely subjective as should. This second generation of your House is different and good.
How you be, gal?