Sunday, May 25, 2008

Sdepan Keshishian: Swan Song

This pond is a picture
perfect of sludge
and litter.

In fact...
its base slopes
in at angled filters
preserving what has never existed.

This poem is a picture
framed in a temperate breeze
of tax dollars.

I could hover along the glass ripples,
Resting under the shade of the willow.

I could hollow out my essence,
Folding back unto the seeping edges.

I could drain along the wall,
Flowing with the bottom current.

and as the filters approach,
I could slip out my purse,
Filling it with coins.

and after extracting
the zinc and copper,
I could harvest the wishes

While the pigeons work for more.

keshishian sdepan
Boston 2008

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