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Click hereWas the tone
Yelped from the
Crabshell Ashcan orchestra,
When the usual feral Cats,
Finding Fedora hats,
Humidor boxes and empty bindles of blow-
Well, you could always count on Louis,
He slid those red cedar shingles under his chin
And in no time, shoulders sweltered and all
Embrace, lit by this fire-the mercy of the flame the focus of the eye-seeing each other.
over and over.
for Ange
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 34,000 poems.
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Just another in a long line of Cats both human and feline ~ making music.
Just listen to those cats make their sound; every night it's music to my ears.
We don't get to see you here enough.
*Stands and shouts "encore!"*
Tess
i read. i liked. and now i'm trying to find a poem of mine that mentions fedora hats. i know i have one somewhere and after reading this poem, i must find it. also, i'm going shopping in this poem for some poetry words. i'll take red shingles, bindles, and humidor.
Gregarious Bomb and why does he need an editor?
This is my favorite part:
Embrace, lit by this fire-the mercy of the flame the focus of the eye-seeing each other.
over and over.
and the jazz part is very good, too. I didn't know about the red shingles. I thought it meant a roof. Woopsy.
Love entering through the eyes and finding a home in the heart sounds like Henry Miller. :)
xo
make the best kindling and build the hottest fires in alleyways and canal banks, hidden places. Love seems to enter thru the eye and find a home in the heart, and fires cast such clear light for such transmission, like a crankshaft that turns the wheels which turn the crankshaft.
thats the muddled reference Tath.
Warm thanks for all comment and critique.
Truly.
T.
make the best kindling and build hot fires in alleyways and on raw nights.
thats the befuddling reference Tath.:-)
thanks alot for all comment and critique. truly.
T.