From "A Miscellany of Diverse Things"
the valkyries Wagner must have been referring to. When adorned in frocks of white they’re arch angels. They retain a perverse fan club among weathermen (who logo-ize them infinitely) and those few Catholics (who burn candles paganly in idol-worship).
these are magicians, or mere charlatans, of the unreal. They illuminate that which we hope will always remain white: teeth, the backdrop of the eyes, the half-moons of our fingernails. With them, a glimpse of Persephone’s realm is evoked; without them we rely on dusk, sunset, and amiable dawns.
tiny golden berets that hurt.
loud mouths who, if they aren’t singing, are so rudely yawning. Ironically they are doomed to stationary lives while they animate discos and shout directions in airports. They are sound apartments.
Philip Kobylarz is an itinerant teacher of the language arts and writer of fiction, poetry, book reviews, and essays. He has worked as a journalist and film critic for newspapers in Memphis, TN. His work appears in such publications as Paris Review, Poetry, and The Best American Poetry series. His first book, Zen-inspired poems concerning life in the south of France, is entitled rues. He lives ever so temporarily in the East Bay of San Francisco.