Pebbles of Desolation III
Done in veins, ol’ Morley mammals
four-way with the storms once more.
Nothingness and everybody leap,
I had my ol’ hateful Cacoethes me
out once to the day drowse.
Why cabin where something for the dead
neither God nor face will look?
Come mules in June, hitch hiking off August
and be bent to see the top of face words.
Talk be born suspire and I had the little
mountain to these there. Get the mouse
with God out, and me just wishing
I’d the hitch a leaf’s explanation
though I find I’m pathetic. Do any mountains
smile? Does the height I put to fires
of August come faced with my oils?
I with old words of any kind existed
neither bourgeois meaning nor snarl worn.
Born off the pagoda roof rain, fearful
Cacoethes me sought another existence,
no drowse and out of upheavals
of any kind at planation peak.
©2022 Morley Cacoethes All rights reserved.
Morley Cacoethes currently resides in Northeast Ohio where he attends “the people’s university” while trying to stay warm and find a permanent residence.
I liked the colloquial, the conversational, nature of the poem. It created images for me as much as the descriptions of events in the poem.
Brother Cacoethes has an interesting writing style. I dig the narrative of his poetry. He has a classical feel to his pieces.