Poetry by Martin A. Abramson
                                                                                                                                                              marty684 at bellsouth dot net
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                   I had crossed that bridge
                   Before I came to it,
                   As I had already
                   Burned it
                   Behind me.

        Birds in the hand       
           Or in the bush
           Are of a feather
                  Better cast in unsyntactic freedom
                  Of flight and song
                  Than as symbols of avaricious
                  Open the hand.
                  Let them flock together.

                             Birds 2
              A hand in the bush
                   Is worth two
                   in the tree.

            Old Test

                      An eye for an I
                            A truth for a tooth
                   Sow the wind with eyes
                   And inherit TV
                   Beauty is in the eye
                   Of the hurricane

                    The curious cat
                    When away
                    May find itself
                    Belled, or out of
                    All nine lives
                    Or skinned in more ways than one.
                    Or it may get let
                    Out of the bag
                    Rain down with dogs
                    Make copies
                    Play cat and mouse
                    And finally
                    Swallow the canary.
                   Dog Days

              You can't teach an old dog
                   To lie in a manger,
                   But if it's sleeping
                   You can let it lie
                   Or lie with it
                   And get up with fleas.
                   Hair of dog helps
                   When you're sick as a
                   Or going to the
                   Or when doggone dogmatists
                   Doggedly dog your steps.
                   But even when
                   Being the underdog,
                   In this dog-eat-dog
                   Dog's life,
                   Gives you that hangdog look,
                   Take heart,
                   You'll have your day.
         Horse Sense
                       If you put a gift-horse
                            Before an upset apple-cart,
                   And let it eat like one,
                   You may as well
                   Lead it to water,
                   Look in its mouth,
                   Or lock the barn.
                   If you're champing at the bit,
                   And work like one,
                   And don't spare them,
                   You might change in mid-stream,
                   Drown, and have people still
                   Beating your corpse.

                  If money is the root of all evil
                  Surely it should grow on trees.
                  If you've got good money
                  To burn
                  Or flush down the toilet
                  Or throw after bad,
                  Take your time,
                  Since that's money too--
                  Unless you're a fool
                  In which case,
                  Spend it immediately,
                  Now! Today!

         Hoping to strike it rich,
                  You strike while the iron's hot,
                  But with two strikes against you,
                  You strike out.
                  Then fate strikes...
                  You stroke out.
                  At your funeral,
                  The gravediggers are on strike;
                  So you try to strike a bargain
                  With God,
                  Which strikes Him as funny.
           People Who Live

         They see your house
                   its angled facets
                   mingling transparencies
                   glass walls
                   glossy windows
                   sheets of sun-ice
                   clear membranes trembling
                   with liquid spectra,
                   and fight for the right
                   to cast
                   the first stone.

          Roses are rose
                   Violets are violet.
             Roses and violets
                   Are fire and indigo
                   Scarlet and plum
                   Aurora and amethyst
                   Carmine and lavender
                   Crimson and heliotrope.
                   Tear open
                   Every cliche,
                   Unpack its sumptuous wardrobe
                   Try on its velour costumes.
                   Roses are infrared
                   Violets are ultraviolet
                   Orchids are orgasms.
    ©  Copyright 2-2-97 Martin A. Abramson.  All rights reserved.