The idle angling of a watersnake-- loquacious and lungless through yellowing waters 5 faded, sulfuric of a hurried traveler's Chesapeake -- through tums of evolutionary time still saunters. Politicians, as limericks tell, 10 are of a swift and similar species; unchanging agile evil vile a Nepalese prince with an Eton smile considers the cost of suicide the price of becoming a democracy. 15 Pelestinian flags on fallen Faisel Husseini drape the dark Dome of the Rock while he's more leisurly laid beneath it. Mourners wail until their faces congeal 20 to unfeatured unsculpted stone, blunted as snakes' in a pit. Chinese warships in a watery ring lazily braid to enclose the pale clarity and newsworthy brattle 25 of independently little Taiwan. Would cobras or roses be roses or cobras if they could be persuaded to choose? Another day, another hour goes cold-soldered to the chain. 30 State Street bagpipes and banners play old Joe Moakley to rest; dead as he'd lived, paraded, by cries and high casuistry followed, down to the crypt and the Beantown dirt 35 he lies interred with the rest, another day snaked to the flow. "All change as they die," is the evolutionist's cry, "and all ways wander unlost 40 toward the one wild Great Way. Each creature encircled beneath the infinite 'Ifs' of the sky is trapped in the hydra of days."
From the collection "The Sword Inside"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.