Monday, February 27, 2012

Jesse Glass/ poem about Cid Corman

Let the poor mad bad man live for 50 years abroad

& tell us his poems are greater than Dante's

He camps in a burning house

His tiny wife an ember

A knuckle-bone

charred black

Is all that will show up

Come next turn of an orb

That poor mad bad man with taped-together glasses

Whose name means "asshole" in Japanese

Wears a boot with a hole in the toe

When he walks declaiming to


Some wisdom only he will consider

5 syllables at a


Come pulverize that special man of stone

Reduce him to his shatter color

Deer horn pressure point strike & flake

Plate chip platform burr

Him song him tell him cry into our mouth

Long weed heads tremble

Drag forth an old bone shank bone

Strike, crack it on a boulder

That old man's voice

A blown-thru reed:

& hectic written levers

Shake his lips shut

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