Robert N. Watson
Cerebral Aneurysm, Eventuating in Coma
Insubstantial time goes by so fast it seems to sing,
To singe with wind-burn any figure-head that stares uncaring;
Let rain sting the eyes and stain the painted face's cracks;
Crashes on the rocks crush hope and all its fine details;
Bottles lie there on their sides, but nothing leaks, or seeps
To a degree that any surface sleeper needs to mind,
Though time goes singing through the lines ― an awful, awful storm.
Robert N. Watson is the Neikirk Distinguished Professor of English at UCLA, and author of several books about English Renaissance literature. His poems have appeared in The New Yorker and a dozen other American and British literary journals.
Return to November 2014 Edition
Insubstantial time goes by so fast it seems to sing,
To singe with wind-burn any figure-head that stares uncaring;
Let rain sting the eyes and stain the painted face's cracks;
Crashes on the rocks crush hope and all its fine details;
Bottles lie there on their sides, but nothing leaks, or seeps
To a degree that any surface sleeper needs to mind,
Though time goes singing through the lines ― an awful, awful storm.
Robert N. Watson is the Neikirk Distinguished Professor of English at UCLA, and author of several books about English Renaissance literature. His poems have appeared in The New Yorker and a dozen other American and British literary journals.
Return to November 2014 Edition