Ozymandias Revisited

 

If you’re ever floating down the Congo

be sure to visit the small village of Gbadolite,

home to the stately pleasure-dome of Mobutu

the former Ozymandias of Zaire.

For twenty dollars the squatters in the palace,

his former soldiers and their families,

will let you have a look around the place.

Continue reading “Ozymandias Revisited”

What It Is

 

It is April.

The leaves are coming in.

The grass is growing high.

Spring is learning what it is.

There is no cycle at work.

This has not happened before.

The plants have no memory.

Hornets inspect their buds

preparing new catalogs.

Every day someone new

sees you at the beginning,

wherever it is you begin.

In the yard, the garden.

On the side of the road.

You are remindful, you

who has no idea of

the long nights of winter,

who does not know itself

but is curious to know.

They say it’s beautiful.


R. Charboneau

 

Artwork: Vincent van Gogh – Park at the Asnieres in Spring (1887)

Poem for Paul Thomas Anderson (For Phantom Thread)

 

I’m afraid I might be the Woodcock type.

I too need to poison myself to feel better.

I too cannot tell the difference between

growing colder and growing more earnest.

Better to slave away at your own redemption

than ask someone else to waitress it for you.

But maybe there is someone out there who

knows me well enough to make me slave.

I think I could love a person like that

without ever realizing I was falling in love.


R. Charboneau