Dingo the Dissident

DINGO THE DISSIDENT : Qweir Notions in the Anus of Diogenes, weBlog of a nearly-octogenarian Binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Friday, 14 August 2020

To my self-centred shame,

I have noticed only intermittently
the blackbird song which has been with me
most of my life.
Now, a cracked and huffing little bellows,
I sit on my high balcony
and listen (also intermittently
with human fake-humility)
to the blackbird singing in the cherry-tree
below.  Within that fragile creature
is far more than I am, far more
than in all humanity
and its deafening, apocalyptical vulgarity.

1 comment:

Marcus Billson said...

Deafening, apocalyptic vulgarity, yes, more than you are, no--comparisons as in the latter are sleights of hand, magic tricks of language, moments of clarity, but always judgments.