Tuesday, June 21, 2005

POEM - "driver:song"


Everyone becomes asian
as they observe their friends dying.
And even you begin to
resemble eastern sod as
you are lying:
A driverless chariot, abandoned-
your face, never before so candid.

Can you believe it?
Congregants gasp and sighing;
in the casket you are lying
(like you've lied to your
mother, lying).
All, with their programs fanning:
some standing, others can't stand it.

And women at markets
chatter while buying
the lillies and daisies for
grave-side crying:
driverless chariots, abandoned-
some standing, others can't stand it.

-trev diesel


kev said...

did it say enough by itself? i have an idea of what it says to me, and i'd love to tell you....but, you first.

Trev Diesel said...

Nah, I'd rather not explain it. That's the nature of poetry... if I decipher it, it kindof demystifies it.

But I'd love to hear your interpretation!