Today's poem is by Ron Padgett
The Red Pool
Oh dear here we are again in a pool of blood
below a heavenly board in a sky of thought,
not the way Andrew Marvell thought
but more the way that history leaned, i.e. sideways
I am bending over backwards
to dodge the ideas that graze my face
before I tuck and roll and hit
the surface in (not of) a cannonball
and the red explodes concussing up
and out in a fine spray, leaving a hole
in Andrew Marvell's conversation.
What was all the talk about?
Hull, perhaps, the casks of wine delivered there,
unloaded on the docks at eventide.
Copyright © 2011 Ron Padgett All rights reserved
from How Long
Coffee House Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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