Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, March 4, 2012


In mem. Anna Nicole Smith
by Ed Zahniser

Every cloud has a sliver lining
it. Ask any meteorologist
but not TV types who’re always whining
about how last night’s forecast sorely missed

the mark & drowned—I kid you not—all folks
below Fourth Street in Brunswick, Maryland,
peopled by party-freaks who can’t be coaxed
to dodge direct hits to their most cherished gland

much less hits by this cloud-lining sliver
that got down to brass tacks all across town.
When I think about some glands I quiver
speak in tongues lose control black out fall down.

We don’t admit we mourn specific parts
but metaphorize our dead, the dear hearts.                 —

1 comment:

  1. One very interesting feature about perception arises from the fact that I read the poem three times before I realized it said "sliver" not "silver" in two parts of the poem.

    The fact that the poem can be read several times without noticing the rhyme, another fascinating feature. This too came to my attention after several readings and then I noticed that the second line begins with "it." and opens the firs lines "lining" to rhyme with "whining." I still working towards understanding the overall meaning of the poem.