fruitkakechevy: (bacon)
Though most of them aren't much to write about--
mere squibs and nubs, like half-smoked pale cigars,
the tint and stink recalling Tuesday's meal,
the texture loose and soon dissolved -- this one,
struck off in solitude one afternoon
(that prairie stretch before the late light falls)
with no distinct sensation, sweet or pained,
of special inspiration or release,
was yet a masterpiece: a flawless coil,
unbroken, in the bowl, as if a potter
who worked in this most frail, least grateful clay
had set himself to shape a topaz vase.
O spiral perfection, not seashell nor
stardust, how can I keep you? With this poem.

-The Beautiful Bowel Movement, by John Updike (as found in the December issue of Harper's magazine)
fruitkakechevy: (Default)
I'm cleaning up my inbox in preparation for moving over to my new laptop, and I came across this. For the best effect, read it aloud.


A Moment of Silence - Poem by Emmanuel Ortiz 9.11.02
Read more... )

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fruitkakechevy

January 2011

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