Ode to a Poor Pylon

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Granddaughter, groundwater, sofas and beets,
Mothballs, mouthwash, bicycle seats.
Pillows and parsnips, wombats and warts,
Pendulums, nightmares, rabbits and darts.

Eschew rationality, the devil with duality.
Why should everything have to make

I give up.

Whimsy is flimsy—
Like everything else.
And therein lies its sweet sub-
Stence. (thank you, Mr. Nash)




About Russ Wollman

My feet are finally in the water, and I want to keep them there.
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