Page 35 - The Gluckman Occasional Number Eight
P. 35
Fearful fish head
For pools in which
They’d be so large
They’d not be bossed,
Or else they back
Into ponds where
They’d be so small
They’d soon get lost.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The inimical inimitable
A pastiche compounded
Is flattery founded
On a copy sincere
As a crocodile tear.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wrinkle rink
Tension goes skating
On facial thin ice,
Heavily hating
To make the last slice.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Out of my depth
Perception is
Flooded with the
Choice of drowning
Or coming to
A shallow end.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
By a search for pure white wings,
Counting pinhead angels fails:
You can only grasp those things
By their tiny pointed tails.
