Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Tuesday Poem: "Winning God's Lottery"

Freewheeling down the Port Hills
after a morning with you,
I feel the fetters fall away.
Nothing can impede my jouissance
as I overtake a cautious braker,
passing effortlessly around metaphors,
indicators dancing in the dappled daylight.

My world has become ripe with promise,
fat with the flowering of a future fantastic.
I feel a rightness deep in my core,
deeper than any intellect can dive.

POET'S NOTE: The poet wishes to acknowledge The Press in whose pages this poem first appeared.

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