Friday, September 21, 2012

Poetry as therapy

He pretends he writes about anything else:
The way a lone bare tree's toes grip the
Knuckles of a rocky peak,
The birds stirred to exalt the
Shameless nudity of the dawn,
The wind through cyclone fences,
The glimpse through fence-board slits
Of the wide hole a sky scraper will be
Dressed in;
He cloaks emotion around animals,
Even inanimate objects and abstract nouns;
Uses third person as a thin veil
And remarks:
'All thoughts look ridiculous when naked.'

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