Featured Poem 6/18/02:
The Big Question
The crack of dawn
Refused to leave our house.
The burden fell back comfortably.Strength and blame.
Gaily colored floor tile
Began to push up.The most brilliant sea.
A knife I named silence
Parallel to the train.Red laughter sandwiches
Melting in my left eye,
I had to sitBy my middle teens.
The rationale of maroon socks
Numbered the overhead officials.My private Eisenhower
Having to translate
That novel bread,I began a lifelong
Game of catch
At the volatile zoo.Average fingers,
A handwritten world,
Heavy goods,The clinically dead blur
Of my numerous knee bends.
A few musicians surrounded me.Squatting and bellowing
An arbitrary behemoth
Offered me a rare daydream.For a brief period in the morning
Its laconic other-worldly upkeep
And mechanically small plotFastened tightly to my wrist.
There was no page turning,
But remedies were devised.The big question
Has remained in exile
Ever since.
© 2002 Ron Czerwien
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