Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Thursday, July 19, 2007


If you descend,
I will drag you up by the knots of your hair.
I will tear, from your scalp, the clods of your grave
until dirt stains my skin like parchment ink.
I will draw the heaviness from your lolling neck
until I stiffen enough to lift you.
Asp-like, I will wreath myself around the auditors of the tombs,
blind them with kisses
and rush from the seam of their jail with you
bundled around me;

never looking back.
Not glancing, not thinking
of ever looking back.


Jack Reed said...

Despite my educational background, I find myself tragically unable to process poetic meaning unless I sit down and really focus HARD. It is no reflection on the poems, of course, rather an inability to comprehend language of this variety. As much as I enjoy inscrutable novels and films, poetry whose meaning is deliberately oblique and otherwise subtle is unfortunately beyond me.

That said though, I am gobsmacked by your command of the language in these poems and all your others that I've read. You seem effortlessly inventive with words, dancing from one densely packed line to another like it ain't no thang. The bombardment of imagery and metaphor and exquisite construction is quite remarkable, and even though the intention is more mysterious to me, I can very much understand why the audiences at the poetry reading group and other notable figures are majorly impressed by your compositions - you make it look easy, without obscuring how talented you undoubtedly are. It's when reading work like yours that I wish poetry had a more substantial audience.

So kudos. I look forward to reading and failing to understand more!

BTW, whatever happened to that friend of the family looking to publish your work? I'm sure I would have heard of it if it had happened, but is it still in the pipeline? I hope so.

The Vegan Apron said...

Hi Jack,

This poem is my own personal interpretation of the myth of Orpheus, who was allowed to rescue his lover Eurydice (who was bitten by a nest of snakes) from the underworld on the condition that he walk in front of her and not look back. However, he lost his nerve and looked back, and lost her forever. The Gods were cruel bastards!