“A rose is a rose is a rose.”
No, that’s all wrong—
it’s merely prose.
A rose is a song with oboes
And banjoes or toppled rows
Of dominoes, flocks of flamingoes
A doe’s nose that smartly glows,
A politico foe’s woes,
Or heroes deserving salvos,
Pekoes in potted tea bowls,
Mistletoes and lurid dildos.
But not to bore—I suppose
No rose is ever otiose.
What? Rose is a rose is a rose*
Gertrude’s true phrase.
Indeed, this is poetry—
it really shows
and so worthy of literary halos.
*from the poem, Sacred Emily, by Gertrude Stein. The first “rose” is a woman, the second “rose” is Stein’s allusion to the English painter, Sir Francis Rose.
Published, In the Shadow of Sleeping Giant” anthology, Flying Horse Press, 2016.