The Pilgrimage: Part 37 / Phillip Neal Tippin

Sleep a sonnet
Wake a free verse.

The intra-telos
Of walking uprightly.

Had I foreknown
My son would be a Kelvinist
With his scales
Trying to reduce the difficulty of zero…
To zero!

As every yes is a no,
On the whole, it seems,
I feel the no’s more
In the very routine yes
Of the others I know.

Only left with
A clefted eyeline


All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2020-2021 by Phillip Neal Tippin. All rights reserved.

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