TOUS LES JOURS
after the painting by René Magritte
Up here in the mountains
it is an everyday thing
to come across vestiges of
earlier climbers &/or the oc-
casional earlier painting.
They may present as tracks
in the earth or discarded
equipment. Sometimes as
ghosts or holograms. Stare
at the latter for long enough
& they sometimes become
embarrassed, begin to speak.
In a thin voice that still
sparks echoes, this one says:
"I was once the star of The
Age of Enlightenment. Now
the world has forgotten
me. Am I not still beautiful?"
This blog is the successor to the poetry section of the now no longer existing The Argotist Online. Send submissions to argotistonline@gmail.com. Due to the large number of submissions, only those accepted can be replied to.
Poem by Stephen Bett
Novel Lines 101: 101 alphabetical poems, each riffing on the opening line of a postmodern novel or metafiction. Antonio Lobo Antunes, Act o...
-
A NOTE ON THE MANDRAKE The irregular black bands down its side allow a small force to over- come a larger one. Otherwise it is blue, & d...
-
SEA, ME, & LIBERACE A school of Patagonian toothfish have given me a candelabra for my saint’s name day. I’ve placed it on the grand pia...
-
BROADCAST NOISE Not shot full of skittering beasts said someone — or was it beats? Or was it the Titanic that really sank or some similar si...