Thursday, July 8, 2021

Inventions (Michael Antman), Sonnet #570


 












We live where light and rust

Mount in measured layers

Like lovers without lust,

Or gods without prayers.

Who invented the bridge,

That fluvial sacrilege,

Or endless skyscrapers

Assailed by old newspapers?

They can’t blot out the sky

Or dry up the rivers —

Just twist the eye awry

Till the brainstem quivers.

Throw light on slabs of glass

And vertigoes will pass.


My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase at Amazon. Click here:

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