Thursday, February 14, 2008

whine of a dilettante

Es schneit noch wieder--
mon dieu it schneit
never-ending dump of white

The snow kommt immer--
toujours just Schnee
underfoot & in the way

Wird Winter nie enden--
manchmal glaub' es wahr
tout le monde all tout d'ivoire

Salty sleety slipp'ry kalt--
through the constant precip fierce
the soleil can't remotely pierce

This lack of sun's the coup de grace--
the ice will not melt
ans Ende der Welt

So I throw down my gauntlet glove--
through Blitzkrieg, bombs or coup d'etat,
one or the other, hiver: vous ou moi.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I like your poemz.

You are very ts eliot-y. very angloo.