an ode to an ode to Paul Carroll
never heard of him
never read him
i know you
you wrote this ode
telling me i should read him
sharing my exegesis of those times
when all that stood was a poem
it doesn’t matter which one
or which poet
it matters to the reader
at a point in time
when time itself is explained
the permanent transience of a spark across two electrodes
the writer and the reader a clichéd monolith brandishing
both dawn and dusk
oh i read you i have read of you
i read your ode in my ode isn’t that odd
the leach of the mineral words hanging in a stalactite
building a stalagmite display of the dark waters
i can see the slowness of leach
but i cannot see the immediacy of teach
teach me how to change me
no thank you
i prefer to remain an uncut diamond
fascinating to dig for
brash when faceted
climbing down to the summit
well that’s the sum of it John boy
one awful ode in this odium of self-expression
as feral as the wild horses with matted manes
snorting dawn’s breath standing untamed
elemental in the reading of the sky
the seas and the coming storms
let the pain of fear teach me to chisel
your ode upon my heart
there now
come here
and if
you’ll show me your ode i will show you mine
No comments:
Post a Comment