“My solitary watch I keep,”
Bill Monroe sings high lonesome.
“So fare-thee-well I’d rather make
My home upon some icy lake
Where the southern sun refused to shine
Than to trust a love so false as thine.”
a pile of yellow
thought I threw
with the nonchalance
Yet, why be so theatrical
in your desolation.
In this way
speaks to me.
I think it means
and I think it is
Castaneda asks, What is going to happen now, don Juan?
Nothing. You won your soul back. It was a good battle.
You learned many things last night.
(So perhaps that’s where it stands.)
Anna Chamberlain has us going to the edge of meaning and sanity for tonight’s dVerse prompt. Well, anyway, that’s how it seemed to me, as we discovered a variety of experimental poetry techniques. Take the time to read the article—Anna did a great service in providing all the information, and there’s really no good way to summarize it here.