Train Bridge
I left the city with its foundation
in surface tension. I left the Garden State
to it gardens. I have one tomato left,
which in my palm thinks of you.
It's the song you wrote for me, distinctions
between knowing & correct. Me with my hair
down, a sauna at the nape of your glance. I
am learning the Shao-Lin way of the Island.
My knowledge of bridges is intimate. You are
subject to archetypes of my substrata; if
this is unclear, you are in the space
between stalactites, stalagmites, the floor.
New towers grow under the train bridge.
In the archaeology of the future
the absence of our shapes there
will be the temple I've built for us.
New Brunswick, NJ September 2004
reading back over it this poem, it feels very John Ashbery-y to me. was i going for that?
dunno.
as my high school English teacher used to say,
"Thoughts? Comments? Shrieks of outrage?"
posted by jenn see @ 10:32 PM
1 little fish:
Don't know that I am adequately informed to comment on the Ashberian nature of this poem. But I will share some thoughts, comments, and maybe even shrieks of outrage.
1) As usual, my dear, some of your line breaks drive me nuts. Also, make sure the grammar is all that you want it to be.
2) I absolutely love the line, "between stalactites, stalagmites, the floor".
3) On the whole, the poem has a very neat and tidy feeling to it, for some reason, like sitting in a car going over a bridge...
4) I love being in your poems ;)
5) Wording is awesome all the way through and the poem has great imagery and movement.
6) Something's up with the last verse. Not really sure what. The imagery is really cool and registers without actually registering as sense. Make sense?
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