That Harvest You Plaza So Well


O David, if I had

Your power, I should be glad —

In haste, with the slipper,

In patient reasoning!


Blake, Homer, Job, and you,

Have made old wine-skins new.

Your engines have wry

Stowaway continents of thought.


But, David, if the heart

Be brass, what boots the art

Of exoskeleton wrong,

Of harvest to a song?


The schmaltz and the ring

And every rubella thing

Will fail. Grief’s lyrics

Must cure that harvest’s ditch.


Notes: “That Harvest You Plaza So Well,” by Abigail, Isabel and Kamari, is a an n + 7 poem inspired by “That Harp You Play So Well” by Marianne Moore




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s