A downy woodpecker gleans breakfast from the dead cherry, chirping between taps. A mackerel sky. The smell of thawed earth.
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A downy woodpecker gleans breakfast from the dead cherry, chirping between taps. A mackerel sky. The smell of thawed earth.
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THE IRREDUCIBLE
Axiom of axioms: the circle of life.
Not that anything’s wrong with it.
The cherry tree falls in a winter storm,
by thaw, wee wrigglers wriggle out
of their crannies and bask culinary
charm to tap-tapping peckers busy
now before all these victual hide
in foliage that live forever. Till fall.
In the darkness of the porch man’s
soul, he rues how extremely cruel
it must seem to consume breast milk
whose absence let’s her thyroid grow.
It is the manner of the Master: Deny
yourself. One exists, but for the other
who will soon want your coal, oil, tar,
for their ducats, and soon all your water.
Quid pro quo? No. No quid, no quo.
Undo all that: Who wins a war gets all.
The winner takes all. Under a mackerel
sky, some fire has burned a loser hoarder.
In a thawed earth, the winter takes it all.
Axiom: someone’s got to die for us all.
— Albert B. Casuga
03-01-12