Monday, November 22, 2010

Look out

I am being undermined by a poem.
I had a rigorous thought
and shoved the blame off
onto someone else’s shoulders.
Wallowing in self-righteousness,
I thought I’d try a poem;
but the poem took the thought
mulled it over and over
and re wrote it casting the blame
squarely back where it belonged
on my own shoulders.

Rule No 1: never trust a poem.


  1. What a felicitous couple of entries. Thank you Diana. I don't know what it means to choose a profile but I will pick something at random and see what happens (later - now I know it isn't "live journal". Another try..."Google account" did something)

  2. Poems pluck and plunder, take ground and caress, insinuate and assassinate. 'How do you like them apples' they say.

  3. An assassin was originall a hashish eater. What are you impugning about poems in general?

    I have a warm spot about the word 'impugne' after an altercation between Lindsey and your grandmother who had apparently made uncomplimentary remarks about Lindsey's birthmother. Lindsey flared up: "How dare you impugne my mother was a whore? I'll have a black, Roman Catholic bastard and that will fix you." Where upon she stomped off leaving your grandmother speechless!