1. Sing the singular white blade of petals still approaching sky.
2. Is this threshold of approach close to a scorch point?
3. Innocence as pass-through to friendly fire.
4. Mistakes are thought to yield the fodder for cropped art.
5. This hemisphere folds irises into their depths.
6. Given the merchantry one foists on nature; where does sky begin to fit?
7. Loam likely to fortify now generates few minerals.
8. Recently soothing land becomes unwatched.
9. Specific granules tip the shadows into darkness.
10. Inherent range of motion flexes stillness in the eye.
11. "Yes" remains one syllable.
12. Art / icu / late, embedded sun amounts to several imagined leas.
1 comment:
I've read "Twelve Views" a couple of times this week, each time while listening to news of the war in Iraq on T.V. Interesting to consider that a poem, a line, a word, changes depending on context. "Innocence as pass-through to friendly fire."
Bush telling lies on T.V. A news report today that forest fire fighting crews in some western states are short-handed this year because National Guard units are in Iraq. "Mistakes," as you said, "are thought to yield the fodder for cropped art." Not that Bush and friends think about art much...
"This hemisphere folds irises into their depths." The woman whose son died in the war who waits outside the grounds of Bush's ranch in Texas, wanting to know, wanting to ask him, why her son died. "Specific granules tip the shadows into darkness."
I don't know if any of this was in the background at you wrote the poem, it may have come from somewhere entirely other than this. What strikes me is, again, the juxtaposition, the context. The poem, and the world in which the poem exists.
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