Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Thomas MacGreevy

Thomas MacGreevy

Thomas MacGreevy

Wheelbarrows of consistent prosody.
That was life... aside from ever-scramble
for rent and food... poems as marble
chess pieces.  And death?  A wait
damp-here and frosty-there for Beckett,
paintings to praise, rain to critique,
Principle is in quiet rebellion.

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