Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
—A sunlit lot. Clear-cut.
Slash smoulders. Crabs of a beer-
colored grass. A torn-up midden heap,
Stately, green-shuttered, midwestern
In its space of grass. The House;
But beyond this, weeds in the buckling tar.
On the pitched rooftop, that one can give
No more mind to the things in the house.
Below in the dim room, that one can see
Death will come and have your eyes.
This one, the one who abides
morning to night, the deaf one,
They sought to erect a universe upon self-evident truths and decided that if the divine light showed through their handiwork they would neither help it nor hinder it. What was created was a more complex sense of awareness in which epistemological doubt gave way to tailwinds of laughter, the strangeness of things to the consolations of philosophy, the bottom lines to butterflies chasing little dragons.
The size of the human brain
increased from the apelike
capacity of 500 cubic centimeters
The philosophical pickle ponders
both that which is, and that which
might be “beyond the barrel,” as
All 74 billion people who once
inhabited the Earth, are invited
to a party. The invitations state
By far the most efficient method of ingesting food is by taking it in through the mouth, chewing, and then swallowing to propel it on its route to the stomach,” a noted medical researcher revealed today. “We spent a good deal of time on this problem,” said the expert who spent the major part of the last five years pursuing it.
I am not at the crest of the world.
The moment
is not the stylite’s pillar,