In the world of
black and white,
there is . . .
Columns
Reviews
Original Material
3 things pertaining to a man
-by B.V. Reilly
1>
I am the
darkest, the pinnacle, the failing, the marshes shrugged,
The
recalibration of intakes, the bowels, the piston rod, the marked child,
The sadist,
the alleviated, the hypocrite voices, the hashed out and torn,
I am the
last of the minor, the washed, the programmed, the wired in,
The
queerest, the obtuse, the inclined, the fluctuated, the south rim.
The
disconcerted, the simulated, the internal, the beacons faded loose;
2>
Our last
great day, the empire has crumbled silently, no hell welcomes us
In the
morning with rye toast and the early edition;
3>
In time
melts, Dali knew, a contemptuous candle,
A leap of
intent, a fruitless limb,
We reap the
sparkling vines of the blight
Kin to the
sleeping matriarch, mother beast.
Wings folded
under and in a ream of color.
Children
will
Smile;
Copyright©2000 B.V. Reilly