Birds like maxims brightly devour
what is begotten born and dies.
Senators especially are
screwed into nose rings
and hunt catastrophic wisdom
to pass to be perch-brass.
Plucked anvils in shape of angels
climb down tether but butter
is in a hurry to melt.
The parenting beseems a fine
line for gentle loops in monastery
those kind thoughts of devotion.
Beeswax balls now lunge now
become centrally located.
Sexual urges flip their coin.
Time terplexed is knock
to new matter paisley wood.
Calmly on a later Sunday, March 23, 2008
Robert Mueller is a Midwesterner transplanted to points East and has enjoyed, in a manner of speaking, his residence of more than 20 years in New York City. He has contributed poems to First Intensity and American Letters & Commentary, and to other upstanding publications, and his poetry may be viewed online in forthcoming editions of Moria and SugarMule.com. He has a Ph.D. in comparative
literature from Brown University, and writes mainly on Barbara Guest, and on Edmund Spenser and Susan Wheeler, and finally and futurally on many another famous poet past and present.
Copyright © 2008 Spinozablue and Robert Mueller. All rights reserved.