The Rectory Umbrella

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

IN FLANDERS

 

 

 

1

The ideal comes

to row upon the dark

 

bright hangings

surrounded by patrons,  assaying:

 

“Less calm, but more comedy.”

“Less posed, I suppose.”

 

They petition

with a flame of coins

 

and corner the famous fear

pretty in the magazines, coy.

 

2

The nation’s thrifty

weavers and dyers say

 

“this broken white smear

signifies privilege”

 

and the nurse (like damnation)

is loose with the details;

 

dreaming of bees

in a transparent hive.

 

 

3

 

I think the tulips are thinking

of goldfish

 

I think the tulips are thinking

of self-severity

 

and the spice

of significance.  Today. Here:

 

Greeks (we call them “Greeks”) steal bicycles

in the city park

 

near the graves

and the plots of these accountants and soldiers

 

which (as a group) loved the beauty queen

behind the bullet-proof glass, counting her teeth.

 

I think the tulips are thinking

of a fog of sutures,

 

of goldfish & the soldiers.

The Doctor faints. Consider yourself diagnosed.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

We make HOME visits