En Masse

by Philip F De Pinto


The news is not new
A poem would pursue
Its own course
As would a horse
Of course of course
Except when he's wed to a surrey

Then he's a cash cow
Who cannot file for divorce
Or seek annulment from the hitch
With each hurry
Up lash
Renews its vow
To buggy


Over in the next county
There is less bounty
As chain links en masse
Slide over the perspirant grass

With cleft chinned truth
In dogged pursuit
Of a bloke and his bird smitten with fruit
Which they claimed not to have bitten
Filing through hedges tossing like salad
Who would suspect a woodwind's
Been stirring and not the ballad


Posted on 08/09/2018
Copyright © 2023 Philip F De Pinto

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by George Hoerner on 08/09/18 at 07:41 PM

Cute, very cute. I like it and hope all is well with you. george

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/10/18 at 09:40 PM

Playful entertaining verse Phil. Great way to start the weekend. Thanks for posting it.

Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/11/18 at 01:32 PM

This seems like a trip to the country by a poet, noticing, noticing, noticing the natural and authentic - horse and grass - and the way they are connected to, owned, and bridled by humans. But I sense the wildness too and hearing the woodwinds like the Indian flute I am now listening too. That last image ends this with a sense of peace - for me anyway. Thanks Phil, for this little journey and its sweetness.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/11/18 at 09:25 PM

Fun stuff, Philip. I love the idea of the "chain links sliding over the perspirant grass," that "cleft chin truth" and the hilarious "hedges tossing like salad".

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