I Was Looking

for a great Robert Gregory poem.

But I couldn't find the book.

So I didn't find the poem.

See how ordered the universe is?

I think it's called "Things the Mad Believe."

Anyway, it's a catalogue of such things.

Now I'm sad.

And unhappy.

I didn't find my gloom.

In the rooms where I looked.

Luverly

I Have a Great Desire

to write a poem tribute in memoriam of Hannibal's elephants.

Will nature, in Her Largesse, grant me the faculties to do so?

In sooth, they deserve a whole book of poems.

Transplanted...

We are transplanted here.

The wegotism begins NOW.