The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 12/13/07

[BlueIris]

"after the election"

our teeth rattle & our souls.
from the socket of the mask
mice swarm & swans.
the mother's eye is running.
a small boy spins thru
the furnace of grass,
thru wheat spear & spire
goes running.
deep in the soil deep in the gut
death's bird-blue calyx is humming

—Michael Koch

[BlueIris]

1. Kick.

[BlueIris]

2. Come onnnnn. This is so great. nt

[BlueIris]

3. Kick.

[BlueIris]

4. Kick.

[BlueIris]

5. Kick.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

6. ~

:hi:

[ThomCat]

7. Color me clueless

but I'd need a hint what this one is about. :shrug:

Death and dying, obviously, but I don't get what that has to do with a boy playing in high grass or an election.