Friday, February 15, 2008

Curse the Body that Remembers the Body that Remembers...

One Body
Over the buildings a thinning mist, dawn takes a match to.
All the fuzzy, whirring molecules spin a yarn
of oneness, then flare up, flail, and burn
from such crystal, such sobering, spectacular arsons as this.

Thistle, thistle stop your purpling.
Don't listen to the chorus of fog, its unbearable
sophistry, its prayers. How I hate its implausible reasons.
O, the body...

Copyright © 2007 Yerra Sugarman All rights reserved
from Cimarron Review

2 comments:

L-BO Jengles said...

Wow!

a-smk said...

I know, right? I love a poem that makes me read it again and again and still wonder at how it does that as it does that.