It was the day they shot the spy sattelite down
that made you feel doomy. A headache that spread
into your whole body. We watched the yellow moon
turn blood red after seven. You said, "I am awash
with memories that take me out to sea. And we
float together there peacefully, 'Me' and all the
other 'Mes' until we remember we can't swim...
And then I panic until I realize I can float." We
caught the magic show at the food court. You
remembered the open market there before the five
burger chains moved in. At Zellers it smelled like
microparticles. You said I was your magic horse.
Waved bye-bye to Hillside, goodbye to plush turtles
and donkeys, changed our address twice at the bank.
I put Frogamander in the Dutch chair, the dog in his
cage. He raked his claws like a cup on the bars.
2011
The poem itself feels "awash with memories that take me out to sea." Your poems from this latest series hold a distance and also a tender-heartedness that makes them float and shimmer in the air. It's really quite a beautiful effect.
ReplyDeleteThank you :) I like that about distance yet tenderness. Some details feel more concrete than sentimental as I'm working with them today, which surprises me, and 'floating' and 'swept away' is a good description of how it feels writing something like this too :)
ReplyDelete