B's Omit Assignment: The Book of Joel
I gave myself an assignment on top of an assignment. I asked my friend Joel if he had a psychic wishlist. I meant a list of material objects that he didn't have written down, but he took it to mean a list of abstractions that he wanted to embody. I immediately ganked the list and started writing a sequence of mini prose poem fragments around each one. Some of it is about him specifically, but those moments are diffused into a larger meditation on our insufficiencies as people to connect with abstractions and the insufficiencies of language that result from/cause this state.
As for the omission portion of the poem. The actual abstraction that he wanted to introduce into his life are erased. Replaced in each case by the following symbol: [...] All in all it was weird and hard to write and probably not done yet. But here it is anyway. Cheers.
-B.
i. [...]
no common ground, no quarter, no hope of surrender; in each clap of thunder is the name of god. even this is a cipher. must is a misleading arrangement of impulses. impulse is chieftain among the virtues of the dead.
ii. [...]
than being loved. greater than and lesser than: direction spins worth, as contrary as the weather. a sighing maw to a pricking point and nothing in between. courting hearts is a similarly fickle business.
iii. [...]
one hand on another hand, an arm pulled from rubble, a bruised neck emerged, a head lolling side to side full of dust and the weightlessness of what exists beyond pain. one kind of salvation stacks on another.
iv. [...]
yes then no, or maybe, a series of questions dashing after their shadows, an answer lying in wait with sharp teeth and a sense of entitlement. every man thinks at his last moment that this was elective.
v. [...]
carrots. onions. shallots. a piece of meat darkening. the smell of luxury from sustenance. the taste of a steaming orange pop. a simmering that has no edges, what percolates slowly without end.
vi. [...]
all you really need is a bed. maybe a heater. or four walls. a little roof to call your own. a song, a prarie song, though you know nothing about praries. you'd know it if you heard it. you think of it and you're sure.
vii. [...]
the first order was light. all else is variation on the theme. still, there is mastery in the spinning. clever, yes, but not holy.
viii. [...]
this clause stands alone.
ix. [...]
to know: he gave: an eye for the word. an eye for the world. an eye for a single drink. the water must have been so cool, so sweet.
x. [...] / xi. [...]
all knowledge is carnal. sometimes a thing can be both hard and true. some know this, put it inside themselves, nurture the ridiculousness of it. perhaps it will bloom, a grotesque flower - soft to the touch.
xii. [...]
poems. bars. daughters. administrative assistants. pop stars. discos. toothpaste. even as the dragons do battle in the upper air, blowing fire and raining death, the villagers reap their harvest to feed - with shaky hands - the beast who lives.
xiii. [...]
the bludgeon always seeks the knife. always, what has requires more. and more will always give. always is the price of more, its serpentine reward.
As for the omission portion of the poem. The actual abstraction that he wanted to introduce into his life are erased. Replaced in each case by the following symbol: [...] All in all it was weird and hard to write and probably not done yet. But here it is anyway. Cheers.
-B.
book of joel
a list of want
i. [...]
no common ground, no quarter, no hope of surrender; in each clap of thunder is the name of god. even this is a cipher. must is a misleading arrangement of impulses. impulse is chieftain among the virtues of the dead.
ii. [...]
than being loved. greater than and lesser than: direction spins worth, as contrary as the weather. a sighing maw to a pricking point and nothing in between. courting hearts is a similarly fickle business.
iii. [...]
one hand on another hand, an arm pulled from rubble, a bruised neck emerged, a head lolling side to side full of dust and the weightlessness of what exists beyond pain. one kind of salvation stacks on another.
iv. [...]
yes then no, or maybe, a series of questions dashing after their shadows, an answer lying in wait with sharp teeth and a sense of entitlement. every man thinks at his last moment that this was elective.
v. [...]
carrots. onions. shallots. a piece of meat darkening. the smell of luxury from sustenance. the taste of a steaming orange pop. a simmering that has no edges, what percolates slowly without end.
vi. [...]
all you really need is a bed. maybe a heater. or four walls. a little roof to call your own. a song, a prarie song, though you know nothing about praries. you'd know it if you heard it. you think of it and you're sure.
vii. [...]
the first order was light. all else is variation on the theme. still, there is mastery in the spinning. clever, yes, but not holy.
viii. [...]
this clause stands alone.
ix. [...]
to know: he gave: an eye for the word. an eye for the world. an eye for a single drink. the water must have been so cool, so sweet.
x. [...] / xi. [...]
all knowledge is carnal. sometimes a thing can be both hard and true. some know this, put it inside themselves, nurture the ridiculousness of it. perhaps it will bloom, a grotesque flower - soft to the touch.
xii. [...]
poems. bars. daughters. administrative assistants. pop stars. discos. toothpaste. even as the dragons do battle in the upper air, blowing fire and raining death, the villagers reap their harvest to feed - with shaky hands - the beast who lives.
xiii. [...]
the bludgeon always seeks the knife. always, what has requires more. and more will always give. always is the price of more, its serpentine reward.
comments for you, super briefly, and only editing for language and such, as I know not the list.
ReplyDeletei. i cut everything up to In each clap (start there, its' real good). "misleading arrangement of impulses." "chieftain among the virtues of the dead" feels more fantasy than pathetic fallacy-ish. feels weirdly out of character.
ii. "direction spins worth" sounds awesome, i want more. I cut "as contrary as the weather" because it was talky and felt more non-sequitur than the rest of the omission. "a sighing maw to a pricking point" is neat, but totally poet-speak, so I don't know how i feel about it.
iii. last lines so far are kind of platitudes, sorta general-one-shot sentiments. outside of that, into it.
iv. nice. you get some bendi lexicon in here with the "sharp teeth and a sense of entitlement." sexy.
v. sustenance feels dropped in as a complicated word that doesn't really fit. the rest is awesome.
vi. so fucking good, so fucking good. def fave.
vii. yes yes yes.
viii. fuck you, you awesome
ix. nice, maybe a bit too clever with the punctuation in the beginning.
x-xi. I want more of the grotesque flower. love it
xii. nice, creepy list. alright for the rest, weird and disperate, but aight, certainly evocative.
xiii. that first sentence makes me physically uncomfortable, and i don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but getting that kind of reaction is impressive, so bully bully. that last line feels way too "wrap-up" for me, kinda in the poet-discourse way from before.
but straight up, i liked it, it was a wild ride, and that's all i ever want. I can talk to you about it more in person, sorry it's so delayed.