Occasional Impressions

The Gemini Poets

Counterpoint

    One   the heavy fastswinging beat of a
             large cheap clock by the bedside lamp,
             with thick black hands that-move to
                thick black tempo of a boiling kettledrum.

    Two   the giggling hysterical patter of a
             small gold watch by my bookside fingers,
             with skeketal hands that dance to
                the scratching of an insect's fingernail on glass.

  Three   the slow tumescent heaving of a
             large small pulse in my selfside veins,
             with wordfull hands that beat precariously to
                the muffled rhythm of a tide without a shore.

                     This syncopation to a
                     groundbass nobody can hear.
rdw

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