A Slight Misunderstanding
Certainly, we can clear it up:
who was tupped
in the cloakroom, if directions
to the hospital were clear, if dereliction
of duty is punishable
by law. Was the shibboleth
the poor boy sputtered
misconstrued because of the stutter?
Because of the wind? Our
longueurs over the long winter –
did they make the trees look this way? Dutch elm disease?
The most recent document states "cease"
but nothing about desisting. What was/is the length and width
of Theseus's ship? When the judge says, "fighting with",
does he mean as allies, or against? What if the swelling hasn't subsided
after four hours? After six? What's with the weather? Is it nearsighted-
ness or the weak lamplight
making the plight
of those children seem all the worse?
Why do the trees look like that? Was it bratwurst
as first reported or kielbasa Archduke Ferdinand raved about
before suffering a bout
of indigestion in the Gräf & Stift? Did the distances
across the poet's stanzas
seem to grow longer during his reading, or was it just me? The carrot,
not the cart,
goes before the horse. Did Dean and Jerry come to terms? Branjolina?
Once plucked from the branch
is the fruit ever really savoured? Was it an éclair,
in the hand of Archduke Ferdinand?
Should I have said or instead of and?
Were the directions to the hospital clear?
What is happening with the weather?
Steve Kronen's collections are Homage to Mistress Oppenheimer, Splendor, and Empirical Evidence. He is a librarian in Miami, where he lives with his wife, novelist Ivonne Lamazares.
The poem here is from a new manuscript, Gimme That, Don't Smite Me. He can be reached at www.stevekronen.com.