the wreck of goodwill
the wreck of goodwill
every dime counted
seemed to count itself
but the pennies were the trouble spot
and the cost of all goodwill.
— Zumwalt (1998)
Archive for the ‘W’ Category
what soul is not besieged
what soul is not besieged
what soul is not besieged by rotten eggs and soft tomatoes
by answers unreturned and questions unsent
by minutes that make up hours and hours
that tear down the day
what mind is not put upon and
once put upon
cast off into a corner
what body is not battered and
beaten by the blows it shields
itself from
what soul is not bombarded
by twenty-two gauge shot and mortar fire
by unresolved cadential patterns
that whine around the head
by invalidation of beliefs and
of what one has seen and sensed
there is reason to suspect that one can grow
if only the rainy season didn’t last
the entire year.
— Zumwalt (1991)
when winning is not enough
when winning is not enough
he like a stunned animal
holds the fragrant unclothed stranger
this remnant of the victory of last night.
she is half asleep
tenderly young
sweet
and so totally a stranger.
he feels like another empty episode has escaped into the ozone layer.
There is not even anything to gnaw on.
he wonders how to wake her up
half asleep
himself.
— Zumwalt (June 1991)
What am I
What am I but a commercial painter
making the same strokes over and over on black velvet nap
always charging the same prices
always settling for less
I know you, too,
paint the same pictures over and over
that’s how I can sell you mine.
— Zumwalt (1991)
the wreck of goodwill
the wreck of goodwill
every dime counted
seemed to count itself
but the pennies were the trouble spot
and the cost of all goodwill.
— zumwalt (1998)
