Today's poem is by Elton Glaser
Last Days of the Surreal
Inside the open cages, only dead canaries sing,
Not turnips or virgins, and no longer in French.
Was it Orpheus or Heisenberg who said: We lose
Whatever we look at? From the fun house mirrors,
An old man stares back, plaid shirt buttoned to the neck,
Everything bent awry by the warp-speed of light.
Now, after my voice has left me for some dreamier mind,
And with the final papers of separation already filed,
I sleep each night with silence, and call it love.
Copyright © 2006 Elton Glaser All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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