Anthills of the Mind

22 Jul

Awful dead or awful old- it all
needs fitting together the
ambient with the rest. What
had been deepened by his
derangement- was this
indulgent amnesia?

He knew long ago she had
been the steam yacht of a
famous leader of humanity.
The sheer one-hundred-meter
height of that sacred grove
of yew or lindens?

Obstacles for him to meet and
in fact that was a startling
advertisement for this day
and age. What was the
high purpose of his
gallant band entangled?

A man, a shave and a haircut.
He just saw her in the gloaming
nights and other folklore
in those anthills of his mind-

newspapers in English, Spanish,
Portuguese and French-
thirty six thousand
words-

ants crawling like demons who
may be of worlds beyond the
moon-

he had a vision- of a dead man
winning, and he thought that
might be me as it never hurt
to look a little deeper.

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2 Responses to “Anthills of the Mind”

  1. lazywednesdays July 23, 2012 at 5:43 am #

    This is sad and beautiful… I read it several times and I think it’s reminiscent of Sassoon or Owen. Very powerful!

    • mattspotentialpoetry July 23, 2012 at 8:19 pm #

      Thanks for the kind words, and I have added both Siegfried Sassoon & Wilfred Owen to my reading list. Peace.

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