Monday, March 4, 2013

N's Poem of Wonder (+ offspring)


Out of this poem (for a start) came the list-poem that follows it. Thanks for reading.


I Wonder


Why the great egrets have set aside their differences to muster in a vortex over Turnbull Bay.
Why it didn’t occur to me that “mortared” meant blown to pieces, not pieced back together.
What keeps the sooty tern aloft for months.
The name of every living pixel on which I stumble.

I wonder how a new heart recipient interprets the ticking of clocks.
Why the oxygen of celebrity wears thin.

How theodicy
can sleep at night, when
after the bombs,
the shoes.

How I might have steered this ship differently.
Who built the damn ship to begin with.
How to recall how to pay out the line. (I miss the sky.)

I wonder why my generosity does know bounds.
Who that is, in the mirror,
and when she...changed.
What the handsome boy sees when he sees me.
Whether the handsome boy sees me.
Why it matters.

Where is the art from post-war Berlin; the paintings and plays that reflect the great medicine that came of the Great War, the technology that saved lives, freeing the maimed—not to die—but to stumble blindly under the gate at Brandenburg?

I wonder if anyone plays tennis against the Wailing Wall at night.
When la fuente de las lágrimas first opened the floodgates.
How many girls survived the Kirov Works.

What passes for gain in the brain of the boy from Las Fuentes,
who swims the frontera every day
to make it to night school 
to study like blazes
to join the border patrol.

If one honeybee dances another by name.
For whom to wonder most fervently.
When to call it done.



Of All the Hushings

train-in-the-station sigh of a kettle
when you lift it from the burner;

compassion of a ticking clock
for the newly transplanted heart;

muted drip of cowardice that pools
in the small of your back;

inhalation of a Venetian blind
at the start of its day;

migration of maple seeds
to the hem of a new grave;

breeze, which is the natural voice
of the palmetto forest;

alpenglow of a halogen bulb
in the seconds before it sleeps;

torpor of shedding things
relinquishing their grip

Of all the hushings,
I trust most in the percolating starlight
in us all.




No comments:

Post a Comment