Captive Water - Revision

(during Katrina)

1. Bom Jesus

In misty fountain spray
today, I will drink

green wine; observe
fat carp making themselves

dizzy for tourists
with fists of biscuits.

a seething golden school
slashing the surface.

we throw bread
when it amuses us,

like God.


2. Hampstead Heath

new coots
slice the water.
I am thirsty.

my throat believes
hope is a quivering stag
at the edge of glade

near a bottomless wishing well
too deep to reflect
my face. knowing

coins are not God’s
messengers, I throw
1 fat quid down the maw.

knowing I’m not getting
something crucial about
this antlered sunrise.


Note: This was my life while Katrina raged. Something is truly wrong with this poem. There is also third section which is still covered in warts. Maybe I'll post it once I've applied my acid and scapel. Any hints?

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