Patrick's description "scattered bounce" is lovely and accurate; there's a
tremor of absurdity that runs through this poem, often in the form of
unlikely juxtaposition ("ash / syntax"; "mosquito / milky way") and
occasionally in poignant little image-jumbles like "The rose isn’t as
ancient as its seed / but it opens, dung is juice / and the zapper is
broken." The phonetics also contributes to the slight nonsensicality,
although not oppressively as though it were all just a tactic. I feel like
this style captures a moment of sudden, wonderful everyday dizziness (that
often accompanies rain), and I love it.
KS
On 17 February 2011 09:01, Jill Jones <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Gem/ weird, reforming
>
>
>
> A second is only a sample of how
>
> a roof becomes rain.
>
> I’ve been careless with corsets.
>
> When the sex machine’s on the blink
>
> turn up yr radio, is it the sound
>
> of silver pumping?
>
> There’s too much ash and
>
> not enough syntax
>
> to make me watch with my baby tonight.
>
> If prime ministers could shelve their selves we
>
> could all be walking to boot.
>
> A mosquito yaps into
>
> the shimmering yard, if the dark’s
>
> dark that’s perception for you, boom tish
>
> but wait, that’s the milky way
>
> staggering up there.
>
> Ladies and gentlemen, here’s to the aliens
>
> yes to all those yeses.
>
> The rose isn’t as ancient as its seed
>
> but it opens, dung is juice
>
> and the zapper is broken.
>
> But you can’t recall your species anymore
>
> they won’t listen.
>
> Succumbing isn’t an answer
>
> nor is it a question
>
> and you could be right
>
> or frustrated by imagination.
>
> Let’s fall without sleeping this once.
>
>
>
>
>
> Sydney 17 Feb
>
> __________________________
> Jill Jones
> [log in to unmask]
>
> website: www.jilljones.com.au
> blog: rubystreet.blogspot.com
>
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