Mine Darn Lark
perched just so on life
as a fire on a candle
would I call you fire
I'd say, this is fire I broke from a candle
happily, hastily –
so, poetry, we meet again
St. John Chapter Eight, Verses Six & Eight
St. John Chapter Eight, Verse Six
the V recumbent on the ground
the A pointing from the knee where no
leg has been for untold hours, prosthetic Virginia
for a more ideal Wilfred Owen, thus all who were
to become battle casualties become slowly literary
St. John Chapter Eight, Verse Eight
"slowly literary", or, (Virginia! I fear you'll
never part from that life-damped place!)
as the (hypothetical) medical journals
term it, "proofs without appearance"
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