3/23/12

Simply a Single Glance


This is not the poem that imitates a poem.
This is the poem that did not win the prize.
This is not the poem about language.
This is the poem that did not get the girl.
This is not the poem about form or formalism
            or language theory about the function
            of form in formalistic
            rituals not created
            under a microscope
            to serve a function.
This is the poem that lingered in the back
            of the classroom.
This is not the poem about the sins of the mother.
This is the poem about losing the poetic impulse.
This is not the poem about the role of the father
            in the mouth
            of the pelican.
This is the poem about the moebius strip
            that began
            this is not the poem
This is not the poem that suffers gladly
            the mnemonic device.
This is the poem about the orange rind
            haphazardly tossed in the causeway
            becoming a tree.
This is not the poem that will save the world,
            perform miracles,
            challenge our simonous ways.
If you want poetry that questions the difference
            between precarious and precocious
            this is the poem.
If you want poetry about red, juicy plums
            in the white, sterile icebox
            this is not the poem.
This is the poem that speaks to the heart of language
            impotence.
This is not the poem that plays word association games
            or
            freeze tag.
This is the poem about name-checking the dead
            poetic forefathers –
            Longfellow, Crane, Ashbery –
            in a wildly lamentable fashion
            in a wildly lamentable poem
            regarding a wildly lamentable subject,
            a subject such as
            dead poetic forefathers.
This is not the poem that understands interconnectivity.
This is the poem about Ashbery being
            not yet dead
            technically
            speaking.
This is not the poem that was supposed to be written.
This is the poem that is responsible
            for every single
            bent light, telephone or utility
            pole dotting the wind
            driven loonshit we
            call home.
This is not the poem that will parse
            the psychological breaks
            you have experienced
            and label them in safe
            if apt and precarious
            categories you can
            mumble into jargon
            when caught in the act
            of explanation.
This is the poem that refutes all other confessional poetry.
This is not the poem that will cartwheel its way into your heart.
This is the poem that is not about the author.
This is not the poem that haphazardly tossed
            the salad spewing pistachios
            and black olives
            over the firmament
            of the stainless counter.
This is the poem that does not count its blackbirds.
This is not the line in the poem that declares
            the author responsible
            for all omissions
            and diminutions.
This is the poem that finds no comfort
            in its immaculate conception.
This is not the poem about lonesome rock climbing.
This is the poem that separates the wheat
            from the chaff.
This is not the poem that separates the rod
            and the staff.
This is the poem that ran a stop sign plowing
            into a child-filled compact sedan
            and sped away from the scene
            leaving on a trace of crimson paint
            a tinkle of turn-signal plastic
            but
This is not the poem about limbs breaking
            buildings falling
            the single simple glance
            an eye might catch
            of pavement.
This is the poem that does not know itself to
            be
            poet-
            ry.
This is not the poem with the jazz rhythm
            best read with dragon snaps
            in the haze of cinnamon smoke.
This is the poem that glides over the surface
            skirts the issues
            walks the line
            dots its eyes
            crosses its fingers and tees
            or hopes to die.
This is not the poem that will give
            to our collective experiences
            an apt if precarious name.
This is the poem that must be read
            to be forgot
            or disregarded.
This is not the poem about the window.
This is the poem that does not linger
            on the metaphysical implications
            of repetition.
This is not the poem about the bloom of the eye
            haphazardly tossed
            to the tree
            to the leaf
            you once remembered
            why you remembered.
This is the poem that does not linger
            on the metaphysical implications
            of repetition.
This is not the poem that will breathe
            fire in the throats
            of the unbelievers.
This is the poem about Calliope’s absence
            in the process.
This is not the poem that imagined itself
            to be a sonnet.
This is the poem regarding the simple single glance
            haphazardly tossed
            at a Bradford pear tree
            forever trapped
            in the glance of an eye
            in full bloom.
This is the poem about the ineptitudes
            of beginnings.
This is not the poem about the finalities
            of endings.

© 2012 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved    

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