Discordant Wine

American Poetry Review, The, Jan/Feb 2001 by Martin, Carl

Stray cats on an anonymous, mythical stoop Of an anonymous, inimical street inhabiting the air Of the oral tradition (though not the key thereof) trumpet Glaringly as part of the "umbilical discord."

I say John you bear some fomenting responsibility For this fairy and meat pie retinue, the recalcitrant subjects, Of course weird, if rarefied objects of the Cyclopean king, Their author who's irresponsibly soused.

And they mewl and cry, their symphony invested With irony, which I merely attribute to a vein in the quartz. Above a stony street there are prehistoric footsteps: The atmospheric lightning boring tunnels in the oak.

Thus the sky is the ground of imitation, roots in the earth. The mask that slips and shifts on the face of the river Is Orpheus the. many voiced liar, whisperer of tales, wooer of dogs, Bitch enchanter passing down the street, tattered bag on his shoulder.