Friday, August 5, 2005

Narcissus (p. 5)

David Capps

reply was he didn't know what the concept was

string of beads, sure
straw floating stars down the river
sweet pressure of the summer's wrist

but this matter of passing time stumped the best
as best i could 'splain it:

drawing my finger to a ridge
a pitiful handful of goats staring back
condescending as the land was drying up
all sense of this migration lost on our nodding

I stood a long time by this Idiot on the bridge
who could not repeat back to me what I said

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