Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot Time is... I fear time's tumbril hurrying us - bare wee foetuses hardly rubbed with God's pleasure - to the place of execution. "Stay!" My beloved, Giacometti above, Renoir below, spirit shining, horse to horse, leaps in the way. An angel rapes a neuron in her brain: "Celebrate! Our rescue remedy is the timeless now - her handmaids commitment, compassion and conspiracy, the breathing together of love. Life is delightful from womb bliss to birth bliss, from home bliss to death bliss and beyond our lives ripple through eternity. Enjoy!" Alan Beam (29th February 1948 - ) |
Thursday 23 July 2015
The Thursday Poem
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