Epigrams Iii

Speechless at Auschwitz by Ko Un loose translation by Michael R. Burch At Auschwitz piles of glasses mountains of shoes ... returning, we stared out different windows. Ko Un speaks for all of us, by not knowing what to say about the evidence of the Holocaust, and man's inhumanity to man. Ko Un was speechless at Auschwitz. Someday, when it’s too late, will we be speechless at Gaza? —Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Holocaust, Auschwitz, antisemitism, inhumanity, brutality, terror, mass murder, genocide, infanticide, matricide, ethnic cleansing, Gaza, racism *** Conformists by Michael R. Burch Conformists of a feather flock together. *** Fahr an' Ice by Michael R. Burch From what I know of death, I'll side with those who'd like to have a say in how it goes: just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker) , and real fahr off, instead of quicker. *** Warming Her Pearls by Michael R. Burch Warming her pearls, her breasts gleam like constellations. Her belly is a bit rotund... she might have stepped out of a Rubens. *** Kin by Michael R. Burch O pale, austere moon, haughty beauty... what do we know of love, or duty? *** US Verse, after Auden by Michael R. Burch "Let the living creature lie, Mortal, guilty, but to me The entirely beautiful." Verse has small value in our Unisphere, nor is it fit for windy revelation. It cannot legislate less taxing fears; it cannot make us, several, a nation. Enumerator of our sins and dreams, it pens its cryptic numbers, and it sings, a little quaintly, of the ways of love. (It seems of little use for lesser things.) *** The Board by Michael R. Burch Accessible rhyme is never good. The penalty is understood— soft titters from dark board rooms where the businessmen paste on their hair and, Colonel Klinks, defend the Muse with reprimands of Dr. Seuss. *** Why the Kid Gloves Came Off by Michael R. Burch for Lemuel Ibbotson It's hard to be a man of taste in such a waste: hence the lambaste. *** u-turn: another way to look at religion by Michael R. Burch ... u were borne orphaned from Ecstasy into this lower realm: just one of the inching worms dreaming of Beatification; u would love to make a u-turn back to Divinity, but having misplaced ur chrysalis, u can only chant magical phrases, like Circe luring ulysses back into the pigsty... *** briefling by Michael R. Burch manishatched, hopsintotheMix, cavorts, hassex(quick! , spawnanewBrood!): then, likeamayfly, he'ssuddenlygone: plantfood