When words failed him, he coughed--
But those plegm yellow sounds got the braille
From the lungs so the tongue could be read aloud.
He did what came natural, next:
Shot a white eye into the pond's air, and watched it
Over the stock divot, disappearing in flapping ink--
The indentations rose to places where they
Could recite their iliads in clouds.
(He thought if only his wings would touch the infinite watertips.)
In Memoriam:: George A. Romero - It’s a pretty good bet that I’m going to spend the entire day thinking about GEORGE A. ROMERO and the better part of the evening watching his remarkable, g...
3 days ago