blog of poet, leah umansky

Let us count that you regard

            and I regard

the changing of the tides

the sea of the last

            We are tenaciously taking the tides

            in favored abandons.

We are contempting the contemporary

            or co-tempting the contemporary

            into a kind of sin.

We are doing more than channeling

When we laugh

When we strategize

In-my-day, I was a believer

            In-my-day        in my day

            In-my-day        in my day

The dial-up had a certain purr

That ruffled my roost.

That’s lost, now.

*

Now, you, you, let alone with the golden.

Let the golden wilt and wild.

We can construct the past

Potshot the pristine

Here, coordinate my sprawlings

Together, this could  be  nostalgia

© Umansky 2013

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