Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Modern Thought

Contemplating Those Barbarians At The Gate
Not The Huns
                 but The Uns
have burst through the bronze doors
of The Empire. The city sprawling

with Face-tious  whim. Friend then unfriend,
like then unlike,  tag then untaget
ce  tera,   et  ce  tera.                                  

The Latin phrase
scattered and mumbling in chunks of marble.
Its syllabic frieze –
                         left shattered by the fray.

And even more un
                       the old ways
                       of telling time and story,
                       developing photo or thought.

And then comes the woman
on the corner – a lit professor
some say (both cigarettes and books)

who doesn’t own
                      a tablet or cell. Un

She talks on a landline, listens
to Maria Callas spin
Bel Canto on an old
phonograph , (all cherry wood)

and jots  things down
with  pen or pencil.  Her handwriting

a map of script.
All routes leading back
to Rome.
              A classic mind
in pristine condition –



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