A Meditation on the Letter L

There is a longitudinal loveliness in the loneliness of the L

The longest letter, lovely lady as a super model

The delerious angularity of your special hell

Anorexic, astounding, sainted from the cradle


Purged of the curvature of vivacious, vixen S

Not caring at all if it will impress

It stands aloof, faintly in duress

Ever erect, and with effort, it takes its recess


There is in the quarterliness of its ninety degree angle

Something stark, light to dark, in the crossing of the hands

Like the “Oath of the Horatii,” like a brother bound to fight

It casts and it basks in its honor and demands


It is a man, L is man, it is Nelson at Trafalger

Looking lean, looking starved, with guns he will discharge

leonine, luminescent, riding an arching spark to mars

The resplendence of its light is a stellar, jeweled barrage


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2000


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