Mimimus Creaks Oar
I pose you you're question:
shall you uncover honey / where maggots are?
- Charles Olson
myself
the intruder, as he was not - Creeley
1
I, Minimus, tongue in cheek, creak oar, row out, too,
into the Homeric sea, not old Greek singer, long of breath,
but as Winslow, local seer, his paints, straw hat consigned
to mistook heroics, pure accident, radio maritime, ask
captain if row boat worthy of even an American sea,
projected too, to go a-row row rowing,
claw oar into wave tipped whitecap safe perimeters,
smell of earth nasal-yet to keep oriented to dirt.
Have, instead, reaped I redundant whirlwind
play America the Fool again, naively trusting my,
and country's, destiny are one, always good in spite
of Melville's long eloquent discantus supra librum -
above the book - more truing than any, to spoil it,
the projected pluribus unum thing, for Mayflower
folks tripping lightly between the hawthorns,
their imported gardens, 'irritant tomahawks
can only turn out swell, ' they think like waves
gathering in sea full of themselves individually,
Destined they then and do think to break just
for,
O America, thee.
And now come poets
each century heavier than
before, heavier than the other few,
this new one, too, only bards,
a real few, to bar,
board up the big gaps,
O great light gaping torn,
oft thee sung,
slung over shoulder,
hauled, the burden,
o the load
it is now become.
poem by Warren Falcon
Added by Poetry Lover
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