From a notebook/ a crude comic…

Cover of Planet of the Blind....man and dog....

Nietzsche: “All truth is simple…”

Is that not doubly a lie?

Not if you can get away with it.
(As if “all truth” is what? A glass of water?)

Can you imagine serving on a submarine with Friedrich?

**

An old shell am I, O Lady of Zephyrium…

**

When winter comes from the radio you know tragedy.

**

In this notebook, which is its own crude comic, we laugh as Batman steps on a fat frozen turd. Robin says: “Oh, that’s going to take some scrubbing!”

**

OK. Meanwhile:

I want the owl’s peace…

Hunger over for the day

Gibbous moon

Sleep…but not yet…

**

Ding Dong.

“Who’s there?”

“The Baba Yaba!”

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to collect your breeze of inspiration.”

(Sound of chicken legs….)

Thoughts one has during a respiratory pandemic.

**

Poem discarded:

Walking Around

Did I know this? Blind strolling
Through Houston passing
An open window (who knew
Windows can be open
In the Texas summer?)
And a piano and someone
Playing it
And Franz Liszt the composer.
I have to ask
Did I know?
Lyric in the inhospitable.
“Tre sonetti di Petrarca”
Broadens
From a house
I cannot see.
And Liszt with his cataracts
His dropsy, a failing heart
Asthma, insomnia
Places his performer’s hands
On my shoulders.

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

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