I loved this poem, Anny, especially the last three lines.
Crafted and resonant (if a pun is aloud).
Robin
----- Original Message -----
From: "Anny Ballardini" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, May 11, 2003 1:32 PM
Subject: church bells
church bells
church bells of beaten metal heavily stuff the air with their sound
in the for-once-compromised-stress-free volutes of my Sunday brain
the tolling replenishes all molecules in broader deeper louder waves
sunk in solid resonance vibrating their clumsy lumbering black slick bulk
you can see those furry uteri exaggerating the heat of a leaden August
with baroque ornaments a saturated texture as to make them desiccated earth
no void no anguish no pain no air no
Sundays are not for me in this land of Canaan me brief a reptile of the
uncaught sun
looking for mosquitoes who need open air
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