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Thursday, June 26, 2014

Poetry

I am taking the rest of the month off from writing, so the poetry has come back. When I write poetry, it comes effortlessly, or not at all. I often write in sequences of short poems, and then revise by taking out the parts that didn't work.

Wheelbarrrow [popular songs]

Wheelbarrow

20,000 wheelbarrows would fit inside your poem
20,000 red wheelbarrows, blue wheelbarrows, green wheelbarrows

But would your poem fit in a wheelbarrow?
How many of them would fit inside one green wheelbarrow?

University

Surrounding the university is a town
In the town, down the hill from the university
Is the woman I love
[repeat]

Poetry & Music

Poetry and music. Music and poetry.
Poetry music. Music poetry.
And art.
Lipstick, lipstick, and poetry, poetry.
Like you like it.
And lipstick art. Visual art, just for you.
For you, poetry art. Music art. And poetry (of course).
Punctuation art. Punctuation poetry. Punctuation lipstick.
(Just for you, needless to say.)
Art music. (You thought I’d forget that!
Visual music, for you, without lipstick or poetry,
With or without punctuation.
As you please. Punctuated as you like it.
Poetry, did I mention that? Poetry and music? Yes.
[repeat, improvising freely]



Mississippi

one mississippi
two mississippi
we counted the seconds
playing football
in the street
not to rush the passer
too soon
one mississippi
two mississipi
a car would come through
we’d disperse
then re-gather
one mississippi
two mississippi



Garbage Bag / Box

In the box of plastic garbage bags, are forty bags.
Take out one garbage bag, forty boxes of bags would fit in it.
Which fits more? The bag or the box?
[repeat]


Beckett Lorca

Yerma is expecting a son, Godot.
[repeat, or not]

Town

A flat town in a mountainous state
A hilly town in a flat, land-bound state
[repeat]



The Woman I Love

The woman I love wears no red wheelbarrow lipstick,
no poetry lipstick, no music lipstick

The woman I love
wears no punctuation on her lips

no university lipstick, no town lipstick,
no hill lipstick. The woman I love

without art, without music,
without

1 comment:

Kwantlen Bob said...

Your poems are such a delight!