If I ever hurt
Another sentient being
Eternal regret
Chagall 2018
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In a world sans distinctions,
where identities bleed,
poems read:
A aaa aaaa aa aaa aaaa,
aaaaa aaa aaaaaaaa
aa aa aaaaaa.
This one got 8 billion likes.
Chagall 2018
Don’t write a sonnet
if a scream will do.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
A universe runs parallel to ours
Birthed at That time, yes – the Towers still stand
Grandma’s picture frames show us at Disney
Paddy came home late last night but who cares
She still jogs everyday beside him
Chagall 2018, 2015 revised
Upon seeing my Mom upside-down, I said
woW.
Chagall 2018
Less off, moron.
Chagall 2018
I cannot feel
the rain.
Chagall 2018
I prompt the dancers
to let go of keepsakes,
become moppets, droplets,
the rhythm of rain.
Chagall 2018
What hasn’t been said, which words
left unpaired, what insight has poetry
impaired, has thought impaled, imperial
designs, impeccable mosaics, mossy memory,
pervasive prevention of forward-motion,
emotion precedes reputation, nowadays
nods knowingly to the past, pastoral
settings, idyllic leas, doughnuts of glaze,
who said there’s no time for snacking?
Forsaken. No thyme or tarragon to
carry on. Carrion. Clarion epitaphs,
cursive epithets, bold strokes sans-serif,
sands adrift in foam, loam aroma rises,
nostrils flutter, epileptic rabbits
breed, breathe, breathe, breathe…
Chagall 2018
