A Pied Sec
I was an apolune in the far past
coat of arms on chest
though i brought myself
gradually
closer to
a kind of transumptive tourbillion
a chaconne-do slowly!
*je place ici le participe présent du verbe guéer
il fallait bien que cela arrivât
from the censer
glowing red lights smoked out
haze art-du brouillard
dervishes whirled
an oboe appeared
a kind of hoatzin
on the holm
the green blades of grass
bent down-their so slight music
fiberglasses
stretched as far as crystal-clear
all is politic!
& crimson ink
Jean-Philippe Guéant
Please CLICK HERE to forward comments
on this poem to the poet