(A lone voice whispers)
I live in The Great Casum
The in-between place
No one knows me as I watch you all race
Some of the blind call me god
Some don't
But you know
Good for them all
For I watch and wait
You'll soon know my name when you walk through my gate
Copyright John Duffy
Casum is the accusative singular of the Latin word casus, which means "a fall; falling down; accident, occurrence, chance event; end, termination; case".
Asking neither names, nor historical periods, Clio draws wide circles of popular masses around square lonelinesses. What's all this noise about? A rich man’s circumference is longer than a pauper’s one! Down with circumference! Fortunately, the nasturtium-clad fence is high enough. The noise is getting louder. Is it just me, or do they want again to take away and to split everything they have already taken and split once? Hydrocarbons, how sweet the smell! Oh, heavenly music of coins clinking! Perhaps, but I’ve chosen the planets motion instead of the people's movement. Violent Paris isn’t worth a mass: having fenced my paradise garden, I admire the swarthiness of girl’s skin and the whiteness of English play. Neither the close lightnings of revolution, nor the accusative case of proclamations, nor uprising, nor mutiny
nor bloody revolt
shall disturb your honey sleep
my dear nasturtiums
a fowl smell tonight
and we turned accusative
huge chicken farms
Dedicated to all the chicken
farms along the interstates.
Colorful flowers and spaghetti straps
And my flabby arms from seams overlap
But the sundress still beckons
It’s diet time, I reckon
Girdle needed, my tummy to entrap
Seeking new ways for calories to burn
To wear that sundress, I’ll let famine churn
Want to look provocative
Avoid stares accusative
Hunger overwhelms, for ice cream I yearn
Sign up for Biggest Loser on TV
So Jillian Michaels can torture me
Pushing boulders up steep hills
To accentuate the frills
Of a small sundress designed for Twiggy
Jillian cracks the whip with no remorse
I drag tired bones through the exercise course
Now slim, I sleep peacefully
Blessed with deep serenity
While friends say, “She makes a beautiful corpse.”
*Entry for “The Sundress,” a contest sponsored by Constance La France ~A
Rambling Poet~
by Carolyn Devonshire
hopscotch, retrieve a pebble
from the lake,
sitting under a tall tree
i will wait
for leaves to fall
on water ;
i will see through my seeds
a relief of roses,
overnight
in the soccer field
tiny mushrooms
popped up, wearing white caps
to see the game –
turning the pages of a book
opens a museum,
i come on you
not accusative
SATISH VERMA
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