for edgar allen poe
yr poems
like the oleander’s
white flowered
cultivars & sweet
scented neriums
on deeply lobed
corrolas so blush-
ingly red, so mellow
yellow so pinkly
pink & passing
pretty so deadly
whose leaves
in pairs or whorls
of three & smiling
fruit with its downy
toothy seeds can
arrest the timid heart
seize & shake the
muscles like yr
stanzas & verses
steeped in yr toxic
drunken genius yr
obsessively opiate
original wit which
from the grave
continues still
to enthrall/enchant/
allure with the
perfection of horror.
© Joseph McNair; 2009
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