20 December 2013
original included background image
a crap poem with a germ of an idea that later prompted a better poem written the same day: (Aristotle contemplating a bust of Homer)
tow ghost
Aristotle contemplates … the bust of Glissando … her eyes stop lights … her eyes are stop lights … in their church
the philosopher envies … her angst … she spits his words … each spins as it falls
into
the wandjina
Aristotle contemplates (to better effect) a bust of Homer … his hand on Homer’s head … his gaze on the bust’s glazed eyes … the news anchor also
preempts interiority … the pixels of … her network’s logo
daub the Thames … where … The Fighting Temeraire … trembles
in sunset agoraphobia
Aristotle and Glissando
slurp each other’s … biota
risking … strange looks … from the shore
then the sham shaman slams all antica … and upward bound … I smoke my prayers