Fractured Verse
{A Bumbershoot Special Feature}

Robert Frost

Avocation As fractured by Chris O’Carroll

Chopping wood
Sure feels good
Even though
I’m no pro.
Any way
Work and play
Can be one?
Cosmic fun!


Rhyming by Woods As fractured by Henry Quince

These woods are not mine, but I know them.
My horse waits; I rhyme while flakes snow them.
        They’re lovely and deep,
        but I’m longing to sleep,
and I can’t till I ode or rondeau them


The Path Mis-taken A parody by P. S. Cleary

Two paths diverged on the hiking trail,
And I thought that I could travel both
Though peering through the misty veil
I saw that there were rocks to scale
And lots of under- and overgrowth;
Then took the tougher, though with some care,
And wearing my brand new hiking shoes,
Because they were sturdy and wanted wear;
Though as for their being the perfect pair
There were probably better ones I could choose,
And soon the blisters equally lay
On feet both left and right—and sore.
Should have left the worst for another day!
For knowing how may leads on to nay
I doubted if I could walk any more.
I sit and scribble this with a sigh
Somewhere blistered and achy then:
At the highest peak of the trail am I—
I took the one that kissed the sky,
And doubt that I can get down again.


Birches As fractured by Robert Schechter

I bend down the tree, gaining purchase,
then ride the tree up when it lurches,
        then back in reverse.
        A boy could do worse
than being a swinger of birches.


Design As fractured by Frank Osen

I found a fat spider, all white
With wings that it used like a kite
        And a neat, fine brocade,
        But I’ve drenched it with Raid
And now find, damn it all, I can’t write!