poems poems everywhere and not a drop to drink

["p. quimby" <crannybrook at yahoo_com>]

ee cummings 
#41 from '73 poems'

a round face near the top of the stairs
speaks in his kind sweet big voice:
then a slender face (on the mantlepiece
of a bedroom) begins to croon

more particularly at just
midnight this hearty fellow'll exist
-whereas that delicate creature is most
herself while uttering one

a third face,away in the sky
finally faintly(higher than high
in the rain in the wind in the dark)whispers
And i and my love are alone

has anyone even thought to post a word or two of their
own?  maybe no poets follow over the rhine.  maybe
when i post there is a crazy magnetic electronic trip
hop transfusion that takes place and it actually
appears that i'm writing about how cool karin's hair
was at such and such a show.  words are not just for
stargazing.  stars aren't just for word gazing. 
see...it's fun.  

~ pontessa

for who is greater, the one who is at the table or the
one who serves? ~ jesus



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