Sunday, May 6th, 2007
At his best, as in this poem
TURN OFF THE NEWS
anxiety gallops through chatter
fading century’s martial insanities
brain struggles to sum up “shut up”
articulation fails
walking shadow slides across faces
dusk over epitaphs
ash hair rusty litanies
dead friends and rain
paradise is an idiot
bones vines cold day
old vulture in airlock
scorpion dust
sneeze
Anselm Hollo seems [...]
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