Poetry: A Crumb of Smith and a Taste of Paz
A Crumb of Smith: (from A Homuncular Storm)
Weird shaped men with swollen lips
hands larger than crustaceans with enormous thumbs
smash onto my windshield eyes blinking, panting
through protruding tongues
A Taste of Paz: (from Trowbridge Street*)
Now you have a bridge-shape
Our room navigates beneath your arches
From your railing we watch us pass
You ripple with wind more light than body
The sun on the other bank
grows upside-down
*Selected Poems by Octavio Paz, Edited by Eliot Weinberger, 1979, New Directions Publishing Corp
© Richie Smith
© Richie Smith
0 Comments