The Dragonfly Of Hope - Poem by Denis Mair
As a poet tells us, "the center cannot hold..." yet certain deeds are enacted as if they stemmed from a moral center. When central values become blurred in a chain of mediations, at least you can transmit advertisements for caring, or shoot an ice-arrow of disgust into the warty hide of destructiveness. Hurrah for lamentations that wrench the guts of melody and show us the darkness we wrestle with in common! So let darkness be corralled and portrayed on the iridescent chitin of a dragonfly, and let that creature touch down right where your hopes are rising.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
//I want to be a moral support officer. I want to uphold things of value. I want to be a herculean herbevorian trickle of goodness in a swordfish suit. I want a synthetic insect to tap dance on my fingernail & fill me with the nausea of prostitution. I want to wear the brightest lipstick ever invented in a dark room & shake hands with a violin. I want that violin to be a Stradivarius & the darkness to be palpable as the handle of a mop. I want that mop to be as literal as the logo for the Rolling Stones. I want the Rolling Stones to support all my endeavors with the disheveled appeal of aging bluesters. I want the blues to be so blue they turn pink & walk all over my tarpaulin with the viability of Agnes Moorehead swatting little astronauts in a Twilight Zone episode.//
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