Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Nine Winter 2005 |
Reflection on Lost Answers Doppler-Shifting in The Night Sky Robert Wynne Space: dark stain of car’s grill through which we bestow the future with a wry voice while we sail headlong into the crooked grin of sky so dark and sly it must be a lost attic hiding all our useless beauty. Our automatic response to constant movement is just to win its remedy, any choice, as if this strong flow could be still, explain grace. |
About Robert Wynne |