Thursday, August 24, 2006

fOR mY fATHER*

Anamnesis

one day in the future
he will forget the past

the sun trawling the spar of his neck
dirt felled into a wheelbarrow

gears sluice with groundwater and machinist’s oil
the truss eaten away like felon bone

a faulty transmission
primer squalled beneath yellow touchup

the game winning touchdown
my mother’s tears gated with rain

a child’s wan cry
knees skinned for the first time


Hard Pears

I’ve never forgotten
the look on my dad’s face
and the feel of hard pears
whipped at the traffic
behind the summer hedge


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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz