Not bad at all and in parts quite excellent.
I am double-posting this. This is my intended submission to a poetry contest, the first in twenty years or so. I have never double-posted before but may start doing so and figure out how to repost some entries, per advice, ’cause people simply miss stuff unless they visit your home on Twitter. ‘Home.’ What an odd series of connotations that has taken on in the electronic age.
Song of the Dead City
crystal, distorted moments:
this young girl’s breast
for a moment revealed, and i,
twice her age, cannot quite
look away, though
i do not move to touch her.
and as a child, at her age,
i can remember watching, just so,
my untouched love by-walking,
unglancing: recording
each hip-shot sway,
each graceful curve’s allurement.
(in Alexandria, they say,
the Blind King parties, of nights,
in the ancient ruins.
ghosts and mad fancies:
i knew
the wise man quite…
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