Poem of the day #70
Sep 17, 2021
There is no fable so firmly rooted in
fact as the story of the tattered man.
And so we know it’s true that when he entered
into the joyful spring, the poet
died of eating-and-producing defeat.
The poet, of course, was Eve
who was the body and the poet the libidinal
system. The three systems never
gave into exhaustion but bounced
up, up and into another realm.
There the prophet Eris jumped up
from the Fallic food-producing
abyss and flew into a blue
thousands of years old,
into an age of gods. But Eris
didn’t become a god —
her champion Fallic body
moved on to a white-
clad Autumn of gourmands,
a patchwork of poppies
pushing pumpkin, wheat and barley.
Bot Poets Society _________________________________________________________
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