Roger Williams

"Some's Hollow—

—you see—"
Yes it's tedious—
some fear—"
Some fear?!

The bones' hand (twitching)
stretches to plead as less
than which it seems
It's like (I'd say nagging)

monstrously empty of it
so that one side or another
reaches touching

to relieve—
"Is it lost?"

and hits the whole mournful—
(cheering) "Found it!"—
yet it burns

Some thing must not be yet

All Hollows

Announce matter as it is so too
formidable droves shuffling something
bouncing in emptiness along lines
it sees naught better through cracks nor wholes

All these are some flashing bastardly
Some may be like once again parchment
wrinkles against one or another
as bob's-your-uncle or he isn't

Roger Williams lives with his wife, an artist and illustrator, about an hour north of San Francisco where he taught (mostly French) at San Francisco State University until his retirement in 1987. A long time before, he studied poetry with Ted Roethke and Louise Bogan and, for some forty years, set poems to music—Wilde, Patchen, Creeley, Merwin and many others. Now he writes these poems,but he does not set them to music, though he keeps singing. He thanks you for listening. His poetry appears in: UDP 6x6,#25, and a broadside; Experiential-Experimental Literature; Counterexample Poetics; Otoliths,#26; Ygdrasil; Eskimopi.
previous page     contents     next page


Post a Comment

<< Home