Thursday, September 2, 2010

borderlines' poem -- 9/2 with comment 10/21

Today I sent this for workshopping: (9/2) AFTERWARDS: (10/21) pared off the parentheses and unnecessary trimmings. Re-thought what direction the poem was headed. It makes me realize posting a poem on a blog is just that. A temporary casing for a thought. I mean, how many versions of a draft does anyone REALLY want to see?

Questioning Evidence

What happened to the snail?

A slip of
a shell
in slim-skinned silence
in a stare of August heat;

Crabgrass elbows its joints, sleekly
combs its purple-seeded valence,
does not comment on the abandoned ship.

Did anyone see the snail disembark?

Not the milkweed,
closed within seed-podded vigilance,
nor the cow parsley fleetly
seeking a full-hipped, laced-bell chance
to chorus line circumstance

A snail does not leave its shell –
and yet here is this litter of shells in the garden.

It reminds me of the fading images of Cambodian faces
printed on leaves, hanging in the museum.

nameless victims in mass graves

we are reminded not to forget

each year, new snails, new shells.

new snails, shells.

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