Reflections of a Sophist by Dan Pettee

Dog Teeth and Flowers by Randall Arthur                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Reflections of a Sophist                                                            In due time,                                                          tomorrow never comes;                                                           the dominance of dust intrudes                                                          and images reduce themselves                                                           to blurred particles of non-meaning;                                                          bodies burn out like lights,                                                          ideas wash away like sand-penned words                                                          in freeze-frame thunderstorms                                                          scudding across a midweek afternoon;                                                          a woman’s thigh fails to flash                                                          within the lowland’s lassitude,                                                          and all one’s erstwhile reckless rhymes                                                          are metronomic …

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