Tag: poetics

number 22

crow

i had a brilliant idea
earlier for a poem
not an idea for a brilliant poem
but a brilliant idea
and that idea was this

pretend i had a brilliant idea
for a brilliant poem
but allowed the passing of time
to let that flame wither
and sputter out
without feeding it
a sufficient jumble of
sounds and symbols
to truly turn it into
a conflagration of truth
so profound
you’d feel physically ill
just reading it

then realized
that would just be
plagiarizing

number 16

crow

twenty three pairs of chromosomes
split and dissected and analyzed
if you ask ten carpenters how to drive in a nail
you’ll get eleven different hammers
pointed at your head

what everyone has to remember
i remind myself
is that there is no such thing as
certainty

–thanks, heisenberg–

you might get an approximate sense
of your current direction
or a somewhat accurate assessment
of your current position
but you won’t get both, sister

number 14

crow

i have cleaned the lenses
of my glasses
wiped until no dirt
no greasy fingerprint remains
and yet
after siding them back on
adjusting them so they are not skewed
sit neither too high nor too low
on the bridge of my nose
turned on the lights
but made sure the bulbs
were soft and warm
and never stared directly into the source
of the glow
and yet
nothing is clearer
or in focus

number 12

crow

little steel is left in this blade
no more cuts through sinew
and no marks will its dulled edge leave
no shadows to be interpreted

and if by chance
it manages to wound
the blood it spills now
dribbles out
pale as water
too weak to leave a stain

flame enough in the candle
to cast a feeble glow
abundant illumination to see
the nothings hidden in corners
cobwebs filled with spider corpses
the flies too tired to fly
too dead to buzz
or reflect the light
in dazzling greens and blues

sheath the sword
in its rotting scabbard
and work up enough spit
for your fingers
to snuff the candle
so that the wick doesn’t have
the audacity to curl smoke
like a promise
like a memory