for M & K, whose collision is still sparking up the cosmos
sept. 8, 2007
when two poets collide
turbulent skies rejoice
stars sweeten up the cracked hallelujahs
cackling black crows kick up their heels.
when two poets collide
there is chiming up the violets
there is singing down the rain
there is trilling, drumming, chirping, thrumming
there is clanging of pot, slapping of feet,
prattling of ham
there is a clutch, a plethora,
an insignia of iambic pentameter
there are rips and fits and stits and pits and ritz!
there is word / there is beat
there is sonnet / there is heat
when two poets collide
leaping greenly ghazals pull red wagons
through fitful sleep
deep breathy verbs punctuate the blood
a cauldron of metaphor burbles next to the bed.
there is upper-case wool
there is lower-case lingerie
there is subtext in the soup pot
irony in the ink pot, wild ripping beauty in the coffee pot
pathetic fallacy in the chamber pot
there is grammatically incorrect kissing
a hint of patchouli tenderly tenderly
graces the ripe hot doggery of the haiku
when two poets collide
*snapping fingers* in a bar, on the corner of Spencer and Broad, the place to be seen and to hear the poets collide.
Awesome! Thanks for posting this, Laurie! Upper case wool and lower case lingerie. Damn, I wish I would have written that.