Eu Caco (r7)

Eu Caco (R 7)

I knew her in the protest days
when she had the cacoethes loquendi
was a gifted articulate rabble rouser
in a day when there were no cell phones
just cells

Oh the sadness of her cacoepy when
she mumbles tripe into the belly of a text message
never speaking in a sentence that would echo
over the harbinger crows that these days
inhabit the empty speakers’ square
where passersby, no longer downtrodden,
are down headed streaming pap on screens

I knew her when she would stand on a statue
demand her rights when she was right, there
in the speakers’ square (secretly knowing she was cute)

But now she’s downheaded and confused
refusing the speakers’ platform
where birds and I
could hear some rhetorical question
that I profoundly would, with chalice aforethought,

mischievously answer in basso profundo
“Share my wine of fictional dictum in a cup”
and I could see now that
she’d pronounce us “Huh whaa?”
and does she know I know
she knows she’s cute

I think a kiss would be
better than a text message
or a revolution

— Douglas Gilbert

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3 thoughts on “Eu Caco (r7)

  1. I liked this one a lot too, the “Huh whaa?” makes me giggle. I think I could go for a glass of wine right now. But i’m not sure if this bottle I’ve had in the fridge for about a year is good anymore or not. It’s never been opened but it’s a red wine and i don’t think i’m storing it right by leaving it in the fridge. I meant to research it but i forgot…and now it’s been so long that I think i should just throw it away…or maybe i should just go research it (ha).
    I got a little off subject there huh? Well, i think a kiss would be better than a text message, a revolution or a glass of wine…

    1. Well I don’t know much about handling wine, but waiting for the moment of celebration that they say is supposed to come in every life is a problem. I’m hoping my life isn’t spoiled or decayed too much. I can’t remember any celebration that lasted more than a second until I saw how empty and silly it was…. I think I’d rather be alone than be with empty people who pretend to celebrate their profoundness and tell me I must be happy because they saw me smile…

    2. But anyway thanks and new wine and new hope are good. (not that I’m an expert on either). I think maybe I should wash my feet, stomp on some grapes and let if ferment… and then maybe I’ll take the mash to the beach and let the seagulls get drunk — they haven’t had much of a party lately cause everyone has gone and they’re tired of fish and garbage…

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