Scott Paxton

Rookie (March 28,1985 / Minnesota)

Ode To Gregory - Poem by Scott Paxton

I have my rhetoric.
My quick tongue
Fancy that!
And you have your old intelligence.
For there is no substance
but my own wit.
Disastrous wit!
I cast you
to your birth -
and arise
from the depths
a thousand Arian dreams
of icy madness
to relieve
the in-concrete darkness

Oh, that I was born
from my mother's womb.
smash his skull in.
Eat Raw death
from my belly
Real flesh
self cannibalistic
uh, drink my fever...
a liter of boiled blood.

A dog that will
and be beaten
by his master
His mutiny
will boldly
into the night -
that mutt!

And for this
my quick wit
will disagree
with all.
Yes, I am not agreeable
It is this dreadful
stare -
this gnarled face,
that feeds
the day

- - -

The audio rendition -
http: // v=FjtRrA8cgbY

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Ode To Gregory by Scott Paxton

  • Gold Star - 54,880 Points Gajanan Mishra (1/28/2013 8:16:00 PM)

    quick wit. I like this. thanks.
    I invite you to read my poems and comment. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 28, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, January 28, 2013

[Hata Bildir]