Poetry John Grey — May 16, 2013 11:52 — 0 Comments
ABSTRACT COMPETITION – John Grey
I lost.Â
According to the judges,
your poem
was less about
something than
mine was.
You kept reality
at a distance.
It impinged on me
from time to time.
You received something
substantial for your efforts –
a medallion, a check.
I got this chintzy twist
of parochial salvation
wrapped in a toothless angel
with a ribbon of cement.
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What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
