Sunday, September 30, 2012

Poem: Breakdown at Insurance Firm

Another of my Portland Review poems, currently up at:



PS: I am spending a lot of time writing my novel, which is interfering with my ability to blog...


Breakdown at Insurance Firm

he thinks fluorescence
might be a blizzard,
and snow angels could be sculpted
in the drifts.

the only escape he has.
it lunges out of the delinquency
of his Id,

the algorithm of the actuarial,
turning the straight lines from his pencil lead
into jump ropes.

his only dream.
the rest of his head dull.
tonnages of pig iron.

what happened
to the lincoln log spaceships
a cub scout built?

disassembled and restructured,
columnar now.
pinioned by a lattice.


1 comment:

  1. I guess Wallace Stevens would like it. I do too.