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Saturday, April 16, 2011

What not to believe

I distrust
the lessons I’ve sussed
like cigarette butts,
gum wrappers and foil
pulled from the tangles
of trampled-on grass
or a susurrus
overheard
in the suspect dusk.

2 comments:

manik sharma said...

francis,
Lessons are like passing trains...you wish to get on a few..and some you just want to see go by ...."a susurrus overhead in the suspect dusk"....this right here is a haiku of sorts..a beautiful one at that....it gives you mystery,fright and hope all in one...this is how jack kerouac might have written it...great work as always....

Francis Scudellari said...

Manik, I think there's an excellent poem in your metaphor of the passing trains. I hope you'll write it :). And I'm very flattered by the comparison to Kerouac.