Quote of the Day
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Poem of the Day
That Was Then, This Is Now
Isn't it just unhappiness? Everything's differentTaken from 'New Poetries II'...
from how you conceive it, the grass still flutters easily
in the breeze, there are still bees faffing around in the manyhued
flowers. All that will continue, like any landscape, as far
as the eye can see. But there's a mood, like a gust taking
a page by surprise, bringing vestiges of something else, remnants,
mere flickers of what you wore. To talk of the Hitchcock films
you'd both seen, or even just to mention that bar's gaudiness,
with its combination of neon lights and Mexican
paraphernalia, would be something - the rural scene, well,
blushes at the thought. Of course, the radiant flatness
with which sunlight normally slaps itself down like paint
will prevail, a certain sheen settles things for you, and such images,
even what little bits of them there are, can only float
inappropriately like a colourful insect in cola, no more vexing
than being kept awake by listening to someone fall asleep.
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