Today's poem is by Ken Rumble

So Perky

Tendency skip rock plate techniques:
one to the left, three to the right. Correction
and escalation, the sound of tit for tat.
There's no absolute zero (check the want ads)
only absolution and the muddy—the unclear
are confined to darkness
—this German
sounds like that German. The grass heart woven
with a steam valve near the pierced eye brow—
when will she arrive? of when will she? The answer
is the question at the top of the page reworded, right?
And like that allowable, unforeseeable road without
dust, air without breath, tar without
stain, near without next—take it in stride,
follow the hyperbole; there's a pot there
and here a pond, some sun
tapped up by little waves.

Copyright © 2009 Ken Rumble All rights reserved
from Jubilat
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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