Civil Seer
Father told me
be a civil servant
New York City cop
or fireman, sanitation
has the benefits
glasses and teeth
out in twenty
upstate at forty
a chicken farm
a horse or two to ride on.
His counsel I followed, save
a servant of servility I became
a cop of words and sentiments
a fireman of unconsciousness
a garbage man of despair
strewing poems everywhere
a proud civil seer, poet,
serving with flair the city
of kindness and peace
astride beauty’s elegant mane
no glasses no teeth
just gratitude, what Blake says
is grace, before which death daily
bows in ignominy.
Thanks, Dennis!
Here we are...
...a group of Baby Boomers of sundry religious,
political and cultural orientations, who have been
meeting at the Voorheesville Public Library since 1991
to read and discuss each other's poems.
We include old fathers and young grandmothers,
artists and musicians, and run-of-the-mill eccentrics.
Writers are welcome to stop in and stay if they like us.
political and cultural orientations, who have been
meeting at the Voorheesville Public Library since 1991
to read and discuss each other's poems.
We include old fathers and young grandmothers,
artists and musicians, and run-of-the-mill eccentrics.
Writers are welcome to stop in and stay if they like us.
Some of Us
Monday, July 16, 2007
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