Poetics, Ponge, Sheets,
Mark Kerstetter at dVerse Poets Pub has given a prompt based on the wonderful French poet Ponge today and his poetization of objects. (I urge you to check out the article.) My brain is a bit fried tonight, which may be what led me to write the poem below.
They are wide and flat and blank with the wide
flat blankness of sound sleep,
white noise, the sky
on those heavy days when summer’s head
can barely be lifted, those other days
when winter’s head
is weighted down with snow.
Except when they are not blank (or wide or flat) but
rumpled by the chased dream that moans for surrender,
ruffled by the soar of inner flight,
tangled around the angled limbs of those who are thrust
by their unconscious into a straitjacketed thrash, knotted
and wracked by those who weep, covering their faces.
Hold me tonight, sheets, like an envelope that is
mailed to tomorrow, and let me stretch
out in your cool crannies, those slices
of stillness, where, encompassed nightly
by the repeatedly touched and
untouched, I find place
for every square of my being, even
the enfisted heart.
P.S. for those who have been following this blog–I finished the novel manuscript, at least enough to submit to a silly (unwinnable by me) novel contest. Still, a lot of revising to be done, but it has a very good story and does hang together more or less. It is not, however, nearly so finished as NOSE DIVE! (Check it out!)
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