Tag Archives:
poem

5 x pie = 15.7079632679
 
Pardon me, do you deal in fragments? I would like to purchase one or two
for use in my next dream sequence. The one I don’t want to have but find intrinsic

[Fr. intrinsèque = internal;
Lat. intrinsecus = inwardly,
akin to intra = within]

and necessary for completion’s sake.

How about these? They appear both intrinsic and fragmentary.

I am afraid that those will make me appear too like my sister. The resemblance is
already disconcerting—but she doesn’t sing.

And those are too like my mother, who had pin-straight hair but wore it curly.

What would be nice to have—lovely, really—would be a paraphrase of the complete works of Aristotle, or at least Cicero.

But—we’re talking fragments—?

No, not these, they’re too much like leftovers from my ex-husband—not exactly a wordsmith, but expert at curse delivery, especially when I had him set on auto.

Pithy—with a side of acrimony.
Now, these over here are both witty and biting; piquant with hints of horseradish.

Those are reminiscent of my father, who liked horses, and was clever with his hands, but never learned Spanish.

<<Mariachi music plays in background>>

Today I think I’ll take that red & white striped tent with a loiterer inside…this librarian…that skateboard…a red lawnmower…and a liberal sprinkling of words.