Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Another holiday Ornaments bought from the dollar store pop from their bubbled scrotum, fall to the floor, flung at the 3 foot pine, remain hung long after needle-fall. Skeletal remain of a living being, bone festooned with festive balls that lie about the joy of holidays, truth sketched in rueful bitterness forever restrained by the garland choking its throat. For all is tinsle, folly and false hope when the spouse lays dead 3 years and the children never come home. © 2008 Kåre Enga [165.307] 2008-10-21 The prompt was: The double A batteries popped from their bubble scrotum and flung, a line from "Newfoundland and Labrador", a poem by Brian Blanchfield in Not Even Then. He is a visiting professor at UM this semester and will read during the Montana Festival of the Book, here in town. ME: Wednesday morn: couldn't sleep. So at 06:52 I looked at the phone and called Gary and he answered. Nice short chat. Would've been better if I could think at that hour. It was cold. Now sunny. Snow on the mountain peaks. Although I'm not doing sushi today (except to eat it) I have other projects for the book festival coming up and I'll tell you those when I accomplish them. Montana: 38º at 12:43. Brilliant sun. 8580 |