Saturday, November 1, 2008

Gunther Quinte

After Catullus

"Dawn broke down.

"I passed the elements all in a line,

The tiresome moment,

A crisis shaped like a lion's tooth,

My mistress in Groucho Marx glasses.

A dense market, nothing new.

Lender, bender.


"I tasted blood on your cheek."

Omphalos in the distance,
or an ocean of paste.

The land is pocked fiddle,
or Crimean grasses.

Sue the bed.


"The language fell apart in my hands."

Shoulder of water,
shoulder of glass,
shoulder of earth,
shoulder of flesh.

Mullions on mullions,
diaphanous breadstick army.

I'm off this grid and onto another.

The Rexwroth Leaf

"This hill is in perpetual decline."

Eyelets in a delta,
we measure arms in feet.

The burghers invoke themselves,
crystal chips on concrete plates.

Touch me once or twice,
literal mantle.

I'll be here all month.

Finders Feel

collapse, you've been granted
a cluster or two, thanks
built into the pavement

if you could smell the person,
hear the compressor, the escalator,
the negotiating casters

comfort leaves the chair

thanks built into the cheek

-all poems gathered from his blog, Gunther’s Block

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It is useful to try everything in practice anyway and I like that here it's always possible to find something new. :)