Interview with Jonathan Potter celebrating the release of Tulips for Elsie, new from Korrektiv Press

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Inspired by a comment by Mr. Webb

April 28, 2011 by at 9:45 am

Kurtz Unbound
These pitch-dark waters glisten in the sun;
As black, the sweat that falls across my gun.
“Is it time,” whispers Magobee the slave,
“To cut the anchor chain?” We note a wave
That urges us adrift. “Our journey’s done,”
I say. “This river, my lover, our grave….”

5 Comments Filed Under: backward glances, bloggerel verse, bookish, Earth, fiction, JOB, JOB's poetry, litterachur Tagged With:

Comments

  1. Peacock says
    April 28, 2011 at 12:49 pm

    Chilling. Anchor chain as umbilical cord to the horror.

    Reply
  2. Jonathan Webb says
    April 28, 2011 at 2:23 pm

    Great poem. Thanks so much.

    You’re more of the Kurtz type than me, actually.

    Reply
    • JOB says
      April 28, 2011 at 2:50 pm

      Well, if I’m Marlo, then you’re at least Marlow, and I will expect the sound of your river boat echoing around a bend of the impassable Kickapoo…

      JOB

      Reply
  3. Jonathan Webb says
    April 28, 2011 at 4:47 pm

    You got it.

    Reply

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