DARK POETRY
no twist, turn,
switch
though by all means
a switching on
of the light
a searching, probing
light
the kind survelling the landscape
scanning the skies
enough luminosity there
to scare anyone away
from
subterranean explorations
writing dark poetry,
commonplace anathema
who knows in
the darkness
what razor’s edge
what peril to hard-won
community?
what sways and bends, plunges
deep into itself
goes full on despair
of Garden of Gethsemane
petals of
blood there
to be seen?
yes
what we have here
must say what it says write
as is written
in the absence of light
suddenly that which dazzles
what
the reader demands
never
an abyss, no dark
night of the soul