BP :: PJ7

#This is some bad poetry from a journal that has a pink bandana cover. It starts with a
#newspapaer clipping dated June 2, 1989.

A Poem for Mary Oliver

Pulitzer Prize my
Eye
Frank O’Hara adn I
can sort poems
Better with our
Feet.
Hour by Hour
you waste
Never Tasting the
Human.
Open your Ears:
Feel the Grass
Tickilings of
The Hammer and
Stirrup.
Charge open Armed
into the Experience
of your forgotten
weakness
– 9-22-90
Los Angeles

<<>>
Some Questions You Might Ask
by Mary Oliver
Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of the owl?
Who has it, and who doesn’t?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens here white wings slowly
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question lead to another.
Does it have a shape?
Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does it have on lung, like the snake and the scallop?
Why should I have it, and not the anteater
who lover her children?
Why should I have it, and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about the maple trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?