Euphemism
Sunday, March 7th, 2010Reach into
this silence
we call brilliance,
the bomb;
Lao-Tzu’s cat stretches
on the couch and
a Grecian urn melts
to nothing in front
of the radiator.
This matters,
whether or not
we forget. It will
scratch its talons
through the ripples
of our minds and the
waves will surge forth
and break against
the walls leaving
stillness, an unmarked
car.