The Click of Marbled Orbs
The stout man puffs on his Havana cigar
picks canary chords on his blue guitar,
fashions flawed words and spindrift sounds
into day-glow verbs and glass-blown nouns-
How much the notion of a supreme fiction
descends from bric-a-brac and spiffy diction
none knows. Say his thickest absolutes
gestate in blue rotundities of fruits;
from crispest wizardry, filigreed feat,
he conscripts floating sounds into concrete
trombones, sausage-makers, cattle skulls,
and pettifogging buds. His monocle's
univocal, a prop that lets him see
glories in pewter, and mere poetry.
William F Dougherty
(Original published in The Wallace Stevens Journal, Fall 2005.
Vol.29. No.2 p.304)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Perfect! This is great poetry!