Confused by this poem? See note at end.
Title: A Title: B Title: Nada
Incandescent flight pears overhead with saris
that thorn my side like glare (soleil, soleil, soleil)
more than once upon a time, etc. etc. the woman tore her hair
and stairs collapsed (de rien)
bouyant, 1-2-3, shards burst outward
can of cat food, mountain of cans (pas de probleme)
mounting anesthesia, physics realm, dream to nightmare
Oh, Belle Dame Sans Merci. Alarm.
(c) 2013 Hannah Six
Note: In 2005, I wrote this poem in response to a few purposefully "difficult" poems I'd read. While my tastes have changed/broadened since then, I continue to (strongly) prefer poetry that is at least somewhat accessible. So...this parody is still relevant.