Friday, April 17, 2009

Poem 12

A Song of Epic Disappointment


 

Lemon apples mixed by hand

Holding promise of sweet beginnings.

Or loud voices shouting silence

With hammers pounding

Lemon mush and apple bash.

To this rattled fest Evan cometh -

Drawn by smells of sounding boards.

Humming William Tell and sleeps

Astride great Silver bereft of

Silver bullet and mask –

Hero yes; hero maybe; hero sandwich no-the-less.

Pounding rounding riding shoots

He eats and leaves.

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