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Friday, October 22, 2010

A MisTribute for William Carlos Williams for my Son's 16th Birthday

--while the imagination strains/ after deer/ in September 

What tribute for a long since rotted soul
like those of Homer's bloodied innocents
that pays its compliments in sonnet form.
Blank Verse? Tar and Feather! Do they Know No-
thing about what I taught ‘em? Of Einstein? 
Shakespeare?--That they Lose when the State is at 
war? They lose and those Losses must become 
something More! More than Money that’s Right OFF!!
Okay, Doc, it's Okay. You’ve said that Be-
fore. Don't upstage me. It's my poem not Yours.
Though I can't say I Refused you the Door.
But since you're here now, can you have a look
at my boy?  He was born on your birthday.
Show him the way to that isolate lake.

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