Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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Minutiae of precision polished honing
of steel compacting the razor’s texture
eliminating every irregular imperfection
the microscope’s jagged edge seen by
the naked eye as unblemished like this
disorder of fruit sliced and quartered bits
easily accepted yet rejected by quality control
seeking an optimal reference.  My life
approaches a hodgepodge of tossed salad
fruit plates served to Mozart where the main
course is a whole Red Sea Bass, its eyes
glazed, holding a lemon in its mouth
cutting requires nothing more than butter
knife and I leave razor edges to Gillette
metallurgy and tempering.  Poetry searches
for precision in defining this moment of
existence where memory and dreams clash
in a present of crashing wave feelings with
their distorted images, fears hide among
happy flower beds, the line of prickly roses
symbolize a life together; then where is precision
if even the stars are not laid over a flat canvass
the brightest often being the most distant?

  1. Jan G. Otterstrom F.

March 1, 2009
Palmares, Costa Rica