Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
Tree
All the chemical deeds
Of a tall beech in the rain;
The bishop named his turtle Tortuga.
An austere choice, but the bishop is austere:
he wears old stained trousers and lives in the dark
So here I go in the famous Spanish slowness.
Clouds advance in their relentless armada—
(Thornton Wilder once said it takes a year
A few months back, we went down to Huelva
to clean our graveyard—condoms hung
from the saplings shooting up from the dead:
Because:
a garter snake slid over my bare foot
We are happy walking on the dead,
sea breezes milling with the herbs ground down
on the hard pestle of the earth
“Wall Street says that cake sales are low”
Or to put it bluntly
“Cake is fizz”
1. denigrate obtuse and active verbs pronouns
skewer the sieve of the optical sewer
release the handle that holds all the gates up
1
The trees are equal to the wind tonight.
Our thoughts are in a foreign town. One dream
gives the lemon wings—and the orange flight.
For years, I'd heard how much
my mother missed mangoes.
Now I miss mangoes.