Day Seventeen Leafy Glen

October 21, 2010

Seventeen 10/17/10

No meal would be complete

without a measure of wheat pounded

out into the flesh of martyr’s meat.

Season with shame. A well-rounded

diet begs bitter herbs sown in tears.

Happy Hester Prynne soul-sounded

Us better than Gogol’s Overcoat of fears.

Pity America without an appetite for contradiction.

What wears better than ministers

Who weep mortal water into the flagon

of new wine? Though lilies fester and smell

worse than weeds it’s enough for robins to spring upon.