(For Frankie)
It is hard to see things abstract.
We are more accurate Now
Encapsulating climate
When we mention Culture.
Let’s look at Value:
Price tag says, “As Is”.
No complexities.
No narcissism.
Loathsome luminaries loaded
In ink, inebriated, inoculated,
Imbibed in itself-“As Is”.
The Sardines became the Gollum.
O’Hara, Oh everywhere, oh Sun, Oh oranges!
Can you feel the rust coming on,
Or is it Out?
Aren’t we all magnetized toward the morbid,
the dark, the obscure, obtuse, or abstract,
as they can be good for hiding things in corners,
shading over or making shadows. This depth
achieves something like,
making good on promises.
Sometimes he seemed gay,
they say, he was happy, in so many words.
All the time, they say, they were true,
the poems. Because they were simple
they cannot tell lies.
Portraiture is paraphrased,
how does one escape?
Clouds come and go.
Meanwhile, the pastoral artist demonstrating
how much one can hold,
runs out of colors, runs out to resupply,
runs hot, then cold.
runs hot, then cold.
Any poem can be an apocalypse,
this is how they all End
(in grey),
except the last words say,
except the last words say,
All days look the same.
Image credit by Berenice Abbott, 'Radio row (NYC), 1936' in [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Image credit by Berenice Abbott, 'Radio row (NYC), 1936' in [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
