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New Poetry by Daniel Ableev

New Poetry by Daniel Ableev

From 8 NONSEMES   Oh complex Gran, let there finally be thy numbers: First 1 Pafnutian opinion, thereafter 3 poseiding whales. What have I left behind but old suffering. Not head, not feet hold me here. It was farmer’s naught, obviously, by the name of Walter. Yesterday was “hihi” ridicule, today death is to be applied. Yesterday: “dadance,” today: thy soul’s distress. Complex iterations seem to the eighth viewer as rather dull sonuds/echeos, redolent of unsense, dumb-as-lake. Gunners from all…

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