In what may become an Eyewear tradition, I today present a new poem by American poet Ben Mazer, on a Sunday. Enjoy.
The war veteran sitting by the pool
has mastered the experimental school.
Negotiating his experiments
has learned to make a world of difference.
Experimentalism hits the target.
Doing away with honour and intent
knowledge itself does nothing but invent
new ways of screwing up the global market.
I only scream to see what I will say.
Beethoven only was expressing silence.
There is no need for visiting the islands
since you arrived here day before yesterday.
The mooning debutante in isolation
is the implicit spirit of creation.
The atomic and the atomizing
reducing and seducing and surmising
may manifest the truly surprising
worn like a flower in their button vest.
Suppose the violence of the personal scars
disrupts the circle of the formal discourse.
The protozoic eye swings from the stars
by which the anarchic imagination steers.
From A to F by way of Z and B
excluding E sails straight across the sea.
All of our experience repeats
in what the grand inquisitor deletes.
(The panting conversion images in clutters
the total curtain's climaxing of tatters.)
The repertoire is formal and concise
whatever pirates anywhere devise.
The truth may often be revealed by lies.
It is by intuition we revise.
By knowing we experimentalize.
poem by Ben Mazer