Rabbits and Spain. Also Ghent

Questions multiply. I still haven’t figured out why the rabbits wanted to hide Spain, nor why they didn’t succeed better. Of course, it may be that they succeeded far better than any of us know, and the Spain we see is merely a small portion of the Spain we don’t. This blog has been accessed nine times by people in Germany – perhaps one person who keeps making the same mistake, typing “Shrewsburyclock.blogspot.com,” when he or she means to type “catvideos.org” – and one Venezuelan. If a German is willing to look into this question of what the rabbits are up to, the Venezuelan might be willing to translate.

Meanwhile, another poem from Ghent.

They tell you, when you begin in Ghent

The most junior Tourist Bureau employee

That you must never show surprise.

No one plans to visit Ghent

Yet somehow there are tourists

Each and every one of whom

Has taken a wrong turning.

Some missed the left at Alberquerque;

Others, midway in life’s journey

In a dark forest, paused

And Vergil passed them by.

Not Hell do they visit; only Ghent.

Help them make the best of it and never

Say what brought you here.

Greetings to the World. Also, two poems

Two lost souls from Poland as well as two from the Ukraine and one each from Germany and Venezuela (hail, Venezuela! You know why) have, I presume accidentally, stopped by here. Probably too soon to announce I'm trending.

My better self thinks it's me, all too willing to say

"That was unworthy of you!" when I've done this or that;

My worse self is humbler, but enjoys life more.

If I sneak out, leaving my decent impulses home

Working on drafts of its interminable admonitions,

The incarnation of my dark desires, my corrupted will,

Inquires after its brother's health, transparently concerned.

THE KARAITE

For twenty-six years

Ambel Kahn met sunrise,

Six days out of seven,

At the North Gate

Lest the Messiah come

And no one greet him.

Death made him less diligent

He’s there now once,

Perhaps twice a week.

Other gate-haunting ghosts

(Beggars, mostly,

Who even in death

Have no place else to be)

Bring him their problems.

(You think a beggar’s problems

End  when he’s buried?)