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Lost World

two poems, I don’t know why

(x = space)

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Lost World

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Dumb means mute

Kids are small goats

Am I becoming

That old person?

A semicolon’s

Better than a comma splice

President of the United States

Is always capitalized

Unlike another mention

Of a president

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Defensive driving

Is a good thing

People should know

The lyrics of the first verse

Of the national anthem

And the lyrics to

One Christmas carol

(take your pick)

All is not lost in lost traditions,

I suppose;

I made that last one up

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No re-creating the world

In my image,

Thank the Lord

(thank you)

It took me a while

To learn “whom” from “who”

So I’m going to use it

But I don’t mind

If you don’t,

Which is mostly true

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The Lost World is a story first by Arthur Conan Doyle, then by Michael Crichton who used the title as a tribute and allusion, as I am using the title here.

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Supplicant

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Well, it’s early and I’m up

What shall you have for me,

Dear Lord?

What might I do for you?

Nothing, I think, that’s

Worthwhile

All right, that’s worthy

What do I have to contribute to a

God?

No gold, no blood-letting

(sorry)

Nothing awful

That might have been awesome

Only me and the wretched qualities

I have—

That grace has saved

For a wretch like me—

Can offer

Most of the time, I don’t know

What these are

Help me, Lord,

To understand

What I have that could ever

Please, if not

Satisfy

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“Amazing Grace,” a song by John Newton

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Photo by AJITH S on Unsplash

Rameswaram, Tamil Nadu, India

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C L Couch

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Lost World

Lost World

 

A borough in

Western Pennsylvania

(towns are called

Boroughs) that

Died when steel died

 

And, unlike the city

Close by (that is only

Called a city),

There was no

Rising up,

No Easter-kind

Experience

 

Anything that might

Be beautiful is old

From the time

When beauty

Could be afforded

 

The bones of

Some buildings are

Strong, while

Others stand ready

To fall over

With a sigh

 

Children attend

A consolidated

School in the area,

Learning to

Leave already

 

The bar owner

Can’t afford it

But must have

The place

Open anyway

 

For where else

Can one

Drink hope

 

Persistence alone

Without substance

Keeps life

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