Clayton Eshleman




        the cracks in

  every floorboard.


In the late Beethoven Quartet,

American suicides leap from Bush’s eyes.

Rembrandt’s elderly face appears through the bowels of clouds

minor major focused

compassion, carrousel and quagmire.


A furious washing of hands!

Water for Beethoven,

blood for the kneeling bells.

70 years as a fetus in

the womb of a bomb,

a firefly

   fire roach

napalm gnome

(my psyche stuffed with forgetfulness gold.

© 2008 Electronic Poetry Review