Poem – Lore (By David Russell)

Lore

 

Knowledge, as a dish of elusive ice-cubes

Floating in acid

Touching each one, propels its elusiveness;

 

The mediation of the utensil cannot be avoided.

 

Acid me, hand me, cube me;

Cuddling smudges, polychromatic pollution,

Knowledge spectrum.

 

He must make a memory of solid metal,

So that it cannot be penetrated by knowledge,

So that the destructive smudge might not come,

So that there might be no death.

 

Death, the fruit of a sideways glance at the flock;

Knowledge chopped, castrated, amputated

For good streamlining –

 

No glue in it: good bouncy knowledge.

 

Education is our life; lead out, bounce out

 

Memory is a softener and a drying out

 

[su_david_russell_speculum]