a poem for today, 21 July 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of nine sentences and its image]
I shall consider human actions and desires in exactly the same manner, as though I were concerned with lines, planes, and solids.
Let’s move on.
Violence, threatened or realized, is rarely their first weapon, but I know that if I object to the taunts, or incidents where my basic existence serves as a comic foil, then I can expect them to assert their power with more aggression than passivity.
Even the most down-to-earth objects and activities always contain such a declarative dimension, which constitutes the ideology of everyday life.
We've got nothing.
I stand corrected.