Into the Porches: cult

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Thursday, February 23, 2017

Poem XIII: FOUR-LINE ORPHIC MYSTERY

Fates clothed in white

through many a workless night

bring forth the little flower

in Aphrodite’s hour

Here readers will find the poems I sent, on a daily basis, to the White House between February 11, 2017 and May 15, 2018, and occasional ones posted thereafter. Poems neither protest, necessarily, nor topical, but meant to delight and instruct. The purpose is for their ultimate recipient--i.e., the lowly intern tasked with summarily deleting them--to be poked a little in the brain. Life itself, if I am not mistaken, began with an inert dirt-molecule being shocked into an amoeba.

To salvage our sanity.

Commoncrofts is still on.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Poem XIII: FOUR-LINE ORPHIC MYSTERY

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