CRAIG STONE WORKS GET IT?


    12-20-08 Poem

    So It’s Nowhere Land

    So it’s nowhere land, is it?
    Not that that can’t be contrived, like a
    place setting.
    You know you want to.
    Here’s how it goes then—
    fashionably,
    like a place-mat.
    But plastic.
    Stretch it now.
    You know you want to.

    But you can’t. Anyway.
    What is the sunset light
    angling onto your plate
    but the energy of your shrug?
    Stop that, if you can.
    It’s impossible already.
    But give it the old barnstorm try,
    as a hypothesis of ennui.
    Or a pin in your eye.
    Take that! Ha.
    Isn’t that special?
    Who knew.