A pound of images

Hugh was  huge poetry’s fan
At times distracted by sirens.
The song misreads sea rocks.

Hugh feels poetry is dead fart
But he has his pound of flesh.
His imagery swim in and out

The recesses of the sea’s rocks
As sirens are waiting in song.
Odysseus is  bound as Pound.

Sirens are singing their songs
All night long,lurid with thing.
Wife is at home, in pure song.

Poetry may be our  dead fart.
With pound of classic images
We save our ship from rocks.

(Recalling Ezra Pound’s poem “Hugh Selwyn Mauberley”

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