1/28/2016 0 Comments 4 poems by R. BremnerLace up those boots! Lace up those boots! Avoid the puddles of united minds! Dissolve and survive The tyranny of institutionalized rapport As you creep numbly through the thought glue, That kettle of emotionless emotion, That requisite embrace of the nonreal, That plunder of the soul! Maybe, just maybe, You can instigate a kludge That might save us. Do yu keep yore map in yore glovebox? For the widow of Edward J. O’Connor, Jr., my dear friend and the best poet I have ever known I join you in your dance of dissonance as you tramp on, wearied, through a life. A life of sorts, a machine off course, a telling tale of woven woe, discordant splendor. Till we meet again in this spoof of our swollen grief, this wonder of wonders, this life that we live. Jaffna revisited Orange flares the night Fire in the sky Death, destruction Burning bodies, flayed hands What can be said What can be saved Except Orange flowers for the dead Roses in the closet Like Ginsberg's roses in the closet I will vacate the infinite, reside in this page of time. Like a latent choirboy, I will sing a faint shrill caricature of your soul, wandering about in this nowhere, envious of your final destination. About the author: R. Bremner, a former cab driver, truck unloader, computer programmer, and vice-president at Citibank, hails from Lyndhurst and Glen Ridge, NJ, USA. For the past 18 months he has been writing almost exclusively beat and Dada, often metrical. For biographical data and publication history, please visit him at http://www.pw.org/content/r_bremner
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