Another poem from my first chapbook

bargun momb


This is a concrete poem,
with grass poking through the cracks,
and a pin, down between the slabs
where it can't be reached,
an acid stain in front of the chemistry
building,
and not a few scratches from file cabinets
and the like.

This is a concrete poem,
paving over my whimsey,
and the all-too-common urge
towards obscurantism.

This is a concrete poem,
vulnerable to acid,
and the violence of a critical hammer.

This is a concrete poem,
but some time ago
I was carrying it to a reading,
and a little piece broke of



underfoot (1991), chapbook. Inspired by a comment by Bob Grumman. Underfoot available from me, signed, for $5. (paypal to jopnquog [at] gmail [dot] com