Brevity
Capsized pyramid, shake the details down.
Distilled to facts and nothing more,
briefly smudged across the page;
dissect in parts by four.
Introduction—born, and bridge—we grow.
Body—fail and try to mend.
Conclusion—ties us back to naught;
Full stop. We’ve reached the end.
Self-portrait as a Dead Gray Squirrel
The car in front didn’t even swerve or
attempt to miss the fat, gray ground-rocket.
Oblivious, the blue station wagon
kicked up a heap of fur and bushy tail.
Am I the squirrel? Are my words the nut
worth dying for? Is Time the car? Is Life?
Is it the World, or is it you? My mouth
is full—I’m ready to be pressed to death.
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