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Impacted battle. Dust above a herd.
Hands wielding broken spearpoles rise through ice-hot twilight
flecked with points.
And where you end and where the dust begins
Or if it is the dust or men that...
From time to time a poet is in residence at the Poetry Archive, talking about poetry with anyone who wants to join in the conversation.
Comic Verse
I'm troubled, as you can tell by my introduction, about comic verse. Comic verse gets bad press because rigid notions of comedy foreground throwaway poems. Surely the best comedy is when the poem surprises us into laughter rather than setting up t... >
