C A R L    M A R T I N
__________________________

SIX POEMS

 

Rufus the Obscure

 

It's with dazzling ambiguity that the various objects have been
sparsely subject to the red bearded hostess.
We, indeed, shift with the tide
smelled out in the blood of his dark haired daughter
“Kate the Brown” vespertine Provender
reality bonafide drama school Kate,
pale lithesome jest
she hovers about like a crystalline dragonfly.
Our selves
her self generating self
deft air of abjection on bended toes (sic)ly obtuse
like the gritty, determined aplomb of the eternal V wreathed Thames.
O no, Ophelia, upon my collapse
in the very dark portions of No
where, as I have previously reported, no buffalo go, roam
or are generally naught to deplore
though if I'm fortunate enough to explore much more
further, may eventually invert
so I may nose it first,
Kenneth, gravedigger.

Rufus the Dane
who in perverse obscurity hath clothed his bosom
in the candle of calumnious “glinting grief.”
Get thee back, o poet, o youthful memory.

 

 

n e x t

 

[ page 1 of 6 ]