The Marathon journey continues. Search under the category Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018 for earlier entries.
On May 17 here I am, Montco, Brendlinger Library. A chilly spring day – gray and rainy.
Today is commencement at Montco, or tonight, rather – they have the tent set up out by the Health Sciences Building. Otherwise, summer session is in action – there are cars in the parking lot. Life goes on in all kinds of ways.
We’ve had a lot of rain lately – I avoided this large puddle on the way to College Hall.
Once inside I decided to sit upstairs on the quiet floor, for a change of pace.
This week and the next couple of following ones will be very busy. I have a number of appointments and three art shows to get ready for and attend (and recover from). My mind is scattered. I have decided to take poetry writing easy these weeks – if no great inspiration strikes, so be it. I have other poetry tasks that can also be handled.
Today I planned to write some new things, then. And of course, Little Vines. I also wanted to take some time to work on ideas for Minuscules – though not strictly a 100% poetry activity, poetry is included in it, and I want to slow down and focus on making notes that could work themselves into tiny stories.
I had hoped to work on my Little Vines print book project (I think I mentioned earlier that when I got to 1000 I would put them in print, and that number has been reached, so…!!!) but time ran out. Well, there is no deadline, and I’m making progress at other times.
OK. Busy enough, I think. I did find time to set down a couple of tiles in the stacks area. Art for the taking.
Here is today’s work.
Good luck. I give you
this small charm.
is all it needs. Please, take it,
still warm from my hand.
I had a view of the clerestory windows today and I was struck by the blank look of the overcast sky. It was oppressive, I felt – maybe it’s the closed-in look of windows where I normally see the sky. Anyway, I let my imagination go with that image, ending up feeling glad that the library is really very comfortable and solid!
The high windows
squared the top of the large room
a band set just beneath the ceiling
above an overcast featureless sky
pale gray and pressing in against the glass
no depth no scale to it
but a solid insubstantiality
the inrush of blurred air
forcing the walls out
the roof up
the concrete and steel enclosure
made nonexistent in an instant
I sat in its ruins
I looked down at my hands
I clasped them tight
the metacarpal bones under my skin
I did not look up again.
And Little Vines.
The lawn mower.
A soundless shriek
from the daffodil.
it was a fine fleece we pulled
the yarn enough to make a ski sweater
one with holes in it for us to escape through of course
I took a peek and wished I had kept my eyes shut
I never even met the man
before he ended up in my bathtub
The dream I half-remember and already fading
Sparks and dust and coiled steel
The person I wanted to be
put the knife away
let the carrots calm down
the daughter paid her mother’s debt
the mother chewed her out
it’s a case of fresh stupid vs. worn-out dim-witted
I think he’s having a reaction to poison
well let’s give that emergency number a call
while we wait sit down and have a piece of this cake
he was hit by a poisoned dart
died in the laundry room
believe me I did not see that one coming
after surgery I heard the doctor say
apparently her brain was full of scribbles
Not surprising you know she was not a real deep thinker
at my mother’s house
look out for the poison ivy ice cream
do not eat the scrambled sour grapes.
we were just finishing up lunch
that was a shameless good taco pie
I have to live somewhere and I’m glad I live here
things are rotten at home
even the baby birds
screech in the nest
Search the basement give yourself the shivers
you had forgotten
how refreshing a terror-filled afternoon can be
Thank you for reading! See you next time.