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
Copyright © Michael Burch | Year Posted 2019
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