Three poems from postcards (Jim Krull)

The matted and unwashed

Who cross the European field,

Celt or Gaul rush

     With their particular civil

                                   persuasion,

Greenly they think thanks,

     Giving the new-lands

Their stink.

 100110

 (Sent to EC)

 Patter is the Gertrude Stein

                             of the cats,

But she doesn't say much.

                     No poems abou

Her food, or the plate it's on,

                     Or the table it's on,

                     Or the floor its on, under,

093010

(Sent to RL)

(Mama's Cat)

Little Figgy is so effete,

She shows just a bit of herá

                                      toes

Under her fur. She is always

Somewhere near her mother.

What a nice idea.

100110

(Sent to AEM)