By Steve Gerson
Warmth nourishing fertile loam,
Seeds spark invention.
Out, not in, away
from boards squared, toward wild woods,
toward the wolf’s howl.
A tree bowing, cracked,
splintering like burst vessels,
still dreams to voyage.
Marred, scarred, seamed, stitched . . . life
suffices. A candle snuffed
Now more than ever: Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., In Memoriam
his hair coiled to resist deception
(moustache parenthetically exclaiming)
each letter a tooth tearing at tyranny
teeth on a gear grinding
words wielded as a dog’s gong barking
sentences weaving a cat’s cradle
to bower pilgrims
the pages awakening night our mother
this titan a siren in a world firebombed
So it goes
not fatalistic acceptance
pretending to be what we pretend to be
his V a vector
trailing a smog thick as swarming gnats leave the city to find the edge
leap the synapse pavement to gravel to grassland
no right angled boards no hard lines to curb deflection in rough barked forest
become the trout leaping to gulp quickness
become the breeze flaring the nostrils of feathered hawks
Steve Gerson, an emeritus English professor, writes poetry about life's dissonance and dynamism. He's proud to have published in Panoplyzine (winning an Editor's Choice award), The Hungry Chimera, Toe Good, and The Write Launch.