|
“But is the Earth as full as life was full, of them?” These lines get to me, always have. We stumble over what in death Is uneven—“as life was full” For my friend the handsome tree surgeon Michael, poet of soulache and slapstick Played poker faced, who saw double And minded two voices that didn’t rhyme. You can answer O’Hara’s question, Yes, fuller. The depths we enter Have room for everyone. I.M. Michael Gizzi |
