Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Now That We All Know What a Plinth Is... - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Now That We All Know What a Plinth Is…

What will we establish upon our bare, ruined plinths
Where late the stern-visaged generals stood? 1
Guitarists, perhaps, or free-verse poets
Or refugees from Harvard’s sophomore class

We could erect erections to erections
As advertised on the family radio
With brazen legends reading “Hey-Hey! Ho-Ho”
Honoring the noble eloquence of our age

Or, with roses for remembrance, leave them bare
Amid shrill protestations of despair


1 Cf. Sonnet 73, Shakespeare

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