Ezra Takes a Pounding
“The brain is a terrible thing to waste”..
I hasten to add my two cents
at our usual parlor mental-aerobics
Sunday evening, digesting Pound while
cake was served a la tuffed maid,
skirted the main point, which of course
as anyone could figure by now, was
was he or wasn’t he?
Crazy, that is - or merely eccentric
we tee heed in unison.
Figure it was all the pondering -
nonsense! growled father, Nutcase the First,
gesticulating, digit drawing in air
drowning in another downing of cognac -
we drew breaths of agitation, then renewed
relentless endless debate, head to head
“he was crazy” behind Mother
“was NOT!” alone stood father, High Priest
of Art, expounding in countless ways
idiosyncrasies of the Misunderstood -
clearly demonstrating that fine line.
Number of discourses on Pound I’ve lost count,
what’s more, five women against Father, hardly fair,
we are no closer to did he or didn’t he
(it’s been a real trial for us all), no!
we are nearer St. Elizabeth’s than truth
and poor Muse! fled, screaming, tearing its hair!
Janet Leigh
No comments:
Post a Comment