Sensitive Habitat, poetry chicken #1

By -
I was going for a little departure from my usual. Not sure, but it mostly feels unwieldy.


Let's talk about your face
as a lamp I've lost the bulb
to. Let's talk about dirt,
or stacks of magazines or
any number of small dominoes
we deliberately set up, the tumble
comes much later, of course, & it's never something
we count down, it's more a rock paper scissor moment.


Suddenly I'm holding your hand
Suddenly I'm holding the toilet.

I once escaped to the basement
for hours trying to find an album
to prove you my childhood. You asked
where I'd been & I said "sweeping."
These are incidents to etch into skin:
your hand, still, unmemorizable.

Comments

  1. JonFebruary 6, 2011 at 10:57 PM

    ADC-

    "it's more a rock paper scissor moment." is brutal. I'm not positive why, but that's the pit of despair for me. The sort of casual shrug of that line, which despite its casualness is so real, just kind of kills in a real, real way.

    I think there need to be more "suddenly"s, more and more, tumbling into each other, with no endstops. I'm really tired, but that makes sense to me.

    The ending is a bit mysterious I think. Otherwise, this was solid and emotionally affecting. You made me feel. Thanks!

    The beginning is really really wonderful.
    Love!

    Jon

    ReplyDelete
  2. B. BarrettFebruary 20, 2011 at 9:10 AM

    This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. B. BarrettFebruary 20, 2011 at 9:10 AM

    I know a poem is amazing when it scares me. Often before I write poems I go and look at other poems that are already amazing. This poem has been haunting me for a few days now. It's the perfect configuration of the scrutable and the inscrutable.

    This is proof that poets are rockstars.

    ReplyDelete

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