Skip to content

William I. Elliott – I

March 11, 2011 




When the world on its one and wearying

pivot shall like a schoolboy’s top shudder

and shake and foreshadow the utter

divulsion, who will fly first, like a divot

eight-ironed up at eschaton? Morally

tone-deaf–stone deaf, plated tectonic guts

monotonal, guttural dissonance

convulses between expectant hushes.


We can’t presume that Earth’s swaggering teeter

totters to any tune whatsoever.

We know better and we do not presume

that in the short run of matters galactic

Earth will greet our children–not ambush.