IDYLL

IDYLL

while I weary myself with reading aloud there you are weaving a basket of fluvial wicker still moist and pliant and the must fomenting with the bubbly hiss of a hoarsest whisper drones midday from the wine vats with the cicada locustals’ bass continuo underlining; while the roots of the sylvan beech hold in the ebullient waters from eroding the humus of soil-cake underneath and the branches above ramify into a kind of textual shelter-place for weary wanderers in word land. There are shadows inter-insinuated in segments,

like devouring beasts.

[he/she enters...]

winsome as a willow

[but who, Billy, who?]

Gotta think of somethink

Here I come in, Amaryllis—bringing ten apples today; tarry awhile, the tuffet’s a bed, and tomorrow I shall bring you ten more;

Amaryll here and Amaryll there,

AMARYLL Amaryll amaryll fair.

Honking like Geese

My Bucolica is a modern reboot of the "eclogue" form originating in Classical Greece and Rome and much rehashed throughout all European literature. It usually comes in the form of a collection of shepherd's songs, dialogues, and stories featuring themes of love/desire, nature/the seasons, death/mortality, and the passing of time. It is often a playground to poeticize the animal world and humankind's relation to it, as well as particulars of the seemingly idyllic life led by simple shepherds and farmers in Arcadia. It is also referred to as bucolic literature. I wrote my Bucolica 2017-2018 in a mix of poetry and prose.