woods-mayans

November 21, 2024

Over your grave a goose change gears
The science is weird
Mayans never counted to here
Dying sun glare through thin atmosphere
Windshield smeared, A/C blasting old air

Standstill traffic, human landfills dot the landscape, ravaged
Trousers on the ape, but he still savage

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Thought:

“Epigrams must be curt, nor seem
Tail-pieces to a poet’s dream.
If they should anywhere be found
Serious, or musical in sound
Turn into prose the two worst pages
And you will rank among the sages.”

Walter Savage Landor

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