Wednesday, 17 December 2014

1 New Poem

Regression Lines

A return of sorts:
to warmth and checkered-line patterns,
to flickering flashes of cathode ray,
to pre-packed bread and wick
burning of candy cigarettes;

the kind I trust in half-step.

Faces too stern to attempt a static,
weakness besets the bravery notion:
the luxury of defeat proffered to
scholars and men of careful tithe.

Far tempting is reflection: on
and on the whistled tune of many
more manuscripts for dissection's eye.

And I give in easy,
lanky as untouched rag doll,
and bordering the calm collapse

of solitude tears.

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