To a Dead Journalist

Behind that white brow
now the mind simply sleeps —
the eyes, closed, the
lips, the mouth,

the chin, no longer useful,
the prow of the nose.
But rumors of the news,

cling still among those
silent, butted features, a
sort of wonder at
this scoop

come now, too late:
beneath the lucid ripples
to have found so monstrous
an obscurity.

–William Carlos Williams

Aaron Haspel | Posted September 30, 2002 @ 10:44 AM | Poetry

0 Responses to “Poetry Corner”

  1. No Comments

Add a Comment

Basic HTML acceptable. Two-link limit per comment.