Burnt Cloth
It was simply
by force because
as victims
of an implacable fate
we had to
undergo our destiny
I’ll never forget
the sight of that hole
like it was made
with a drill—
a little whiff of smoke
from burnt cloth,
the man’s violent
summersault, a groan
and then the stillness
You’ve got your
I’ve got my
so what do you want
to do now
I thought
now
I know
where to look
But if all
on both sides
had done the same thing
wouldn’t that have
been sublime
could’ve gone a couple
rounds in the ring
would’ve been
All of that sort
of publicity
leads to strangers
hearing my real name
being pointed out
stared at
treated as a lion
Here in Los
Angeles these
thoughts are
especially
poignant
He does everything
well
pitch
counterpoint
rhythm
It’ll end
in tears
tears
or death
or worse
“CONFABULATION
Craft a conversation poem using “he said/she said” quotes that you find in newspaper articles.” –from The OULIPOST Handbook
{i miss paper letters} 