For poets who don't get out much, I recommend a cluster of nearby knick-knacks. I also recommend getting out more, but that is neither here nor there. Well . . . it IS there but it's not here. Here being this: a poem born of reclusion.
Desk Globe
The desk globe makes its case
For world travel—spun
By a thumb, brought
To a shrieking halt by a
Forefinger.
A random locale with special
Meaning, like grandmother
Through the fanning Scriptures—
Her horoscope
On linen.
The whole earth—our subtle
Recline, our gentle
Catapult through the entirety of time—full of places
To meet our makers, to eat
Manically, to walk, lance blisters,
And walk on.
Like grandmother across
Her boundless losses—
Orthopedic shoes to Calgary,
There to lay down her accreted
Planet of mostly water.
Very nice. From "The whole earth...and walk on." = what a language punch. So much there and I love the variety.
ReplyDeleteOrthopedic shoes bothers me. But I'm just, just getting over my total aversion to pop culture in poems. So bear with me. My latest has match.com...
Admittedly, "orthopedic" IS a bit clunky for my tastes. And I trust your instincts, so I am going to rework that line. Any suggestions? I still kinda need her going to Calgary, but the mode is flexible.
ReplyDeleteAside: Are orthopedic shoes pop culture? My own aversion generally steers me clear of such references.