Today's prompt is based on a line I stumbled upon in a perusal of Poetry Foundation's website. The poem is called "Transformocean" and it is by Samuel Gregoire and translated by Forrest Gander.
There is no way to end the story
without more words
more pages
the sentiment's quick dulling
with no whetstone in sight.
Little flecks of gold
all over the character arc,
careening towards
this impossible
resolution.
Beseech the muse?
How many sacrifices
of livestock to quell
the burning, to extinguish
this minor conflagration?
The chord resolves itself
in unclear harmony,
followed by shuffling of feet
and coughs
from an audience left
unsatisfied
I love these lines, Leonard:
ReplyDelete'The chord resolves itself
in unclear harmony,
followed by shuffling of feet
and coughs
from an audience left
unsatisfied'.