Poetry by Richard Kovac

St. BingoZ
The pastor saith,
"Yes, bingo is an evil,
but it is a necessary evil."
Once I was bingo caller
in the auditorium
of our school,
and saw the rabbit feet
and wasted grocery money.
"But it's for the school."

Who can intervene for us?
Let us call upon St. Bingo,
since he is a very great saint,
for his name is written
upon all the churches.

Apple Blossom Tree
If you could prove
the existence of God
with logical
What a boon that would be!
Then what?
Tuck it in a drawer,
and go out and kill
and dissipate some more.
My proof of
the existence of God
is the apple blossom tree
in spring.
Of its beauty
I must sing.

The Unicorn Tapestry
(At the Cloisters, NYC)
Wonderful woven
as myth
is the unicorn,
with his handmaids
as poetry -
alas the ugly
(to us) rhinoceros
is his progenitor
in fact
and tapestries
don't showplace
the latter.

Brother Fact
When you have stated
all the facts,
is that all?
Are you finished?
Yet Fact is the noble brother
of Truth.
A poem may founder -
like Noah's poetic ark -
on the reef of facts
and yet be true,
as if the meaning
were added to.

To Save The Day
Mighty Mouse, my childhood hero,
was allergic to cream puffs,
and so am I, not to mention
a specific reaction to cheesecake.
Such is the kryptonite
we heroes are up against,
along with Oil Can Harry,
as we sit on our stools
in this dinky, delightful diner
where waitresses smile.
Stay faithful to Pearl Pureheart!

The Wounded Tiger
Nature has compassion
for the meek squirrel,
and the hapless sheep,
after its fashion.
Blake asks about
his tiger in the night,
Did he who made the lamb.
make thee? I don't know
how this transpired.
At Fort Polk, Louisiana,
I saw a mirror with a sign,
"Smile, tiger. God loves you."
I don't know about that
We are the wounded
tigers of that time.

What if the three suns
that spin above
to give eternal day
were, then, quenched
by some eclipse?
What terror, then,
would sure descend
as the night
was bright only
with the myriad
diamond, three-dimensional
shining stars
in this brief, passing moment
when terror strikes
every heart,
and civilization
is set down again,
as in every cycle
on this strange planet.

(based on Isaac Asimov)

Nostalgia For A Lost Friend
If to each friend
belongs a good-bye,
sadder for space
and time,
perishing us.
And yet:
never ends.

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