All is mathematics
The wind is mathematics, and your tear ducts me insisting we continue, the curvature of your smile the rock you sat down on, the ocean that sighed in your stead the proof that life is a theorem, which can never be proven to be one
Reading: Jane by Howard Moss
American poet, dramatist and critic Howard Moss (1922-1987) won the National Book Award in 1972 for his selected poetry. He was the poetry editor of the New Yorker for almost forty years and a great discoverer of poets. Moss also wrote a funny illustrated book of writer's parodies called 'instant lives'. I read 'Jane', a poem ...
We say to 'rise' to fame and to 'fall' in love. Correction. We fall in fame and we rise to love.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon, like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling. (Pablo Neruda)
we hasten not
it is high noon and the bright fruits shine in the air is a promise of decay we let the sun pour its old light on us and bury imagination in warm smiles we save up for higher seasons, for longer shadows for deeper promises and gentler declines slow and infinite are our thoughts, we ...