ANTEDILUVIAN LANDSCAPE
David Feinstein
We’ve talked. It’s the same here.
Picturesque and most immediately, ceiling.
Late garden renditions come to mind.
Inevitably, of wires.
Men in underwear
And the sky growing a bit melodramatic.
As for angels, the predictable ones rasp,
Wipe their glasses with spit.
“Pompeii, Pompeii,
It will snow any day now!”
Beyond, a water tower looms.
Given to white, considering white.
Instead there’s only mail to flutter.
For all we know, it’s vacation season.