Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
It’s raining for some reason over West St. Clair St.
That merges in a cloud bank with Riddle Rd.;
Evening Star Lane lent me to kiss Iris one fine night
My weakness is for color words.
It doesn't begin to annoy until such time
As the parrots and Africas are
By far the most efficient method of ingesting food is by taking it in through the mouth, chewing, and then swallowing to propel it on its route to the stomach,” a noted medical researcher revealed today. “We spent a good deal of time on this problem,” said the expert who spent the major part of the last five years pursuing it.
They sought to erect a universe upon self-evident truths and decided that if the divine light showed through their handiwork they would neither help it nor hinder it. What was created was a more complex sense of awareness in which epistemological doubt gave way to tailwinds of laughter, the strangeness of things to the consolations of philosophy, the bottom lines to butterflies chasing little dragons.
Stately, green-shuttered, midwestern
In its space of grass. The House;
But beyond this, weeds in the buckling tar.
One is solicitous of it
as a unique Himalayan rosebud
smuggled out of Nepal.
Wherever I look you are islands
a constellation of flowers breathing on the sea
deep-forested islands mountainous and fragrant
I passed your office six times today
wanting to turn up the broken walk
and slip inside to wait at the coat rack,
Enough inside jokes,
let's move this bash out
under the stars. Heap up
My mother comes back from a trip downtown to the dimestore. She has brought me a surprise. It is still in her purse.