Thanks, Doug. That touch on screen is so 'flavourless' sometimes. I was watching a guy farting around with his photos on a long distance train journey
and it just seemed (to me) that the more he fiddled, the less he would remember. But yes I take your point about the circularity of touch in my poem.
Bill
On Thu, Apr 11th, 2013 at 1:18 AM, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Interesting that the poem insists these memories lack touch, Bill, & does
> so through terms of such...
>
> Doug
> On 2013-04-10, at 1:35 AM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> > clusters of bright blue memories
> > confined, glowingly accessible
> > at the caress of a forefinger -
> > flickable, manipulable
> > eye-seen, fixed;
> > no need to grasp and clutch
> > at what forms up in the re-forming mind
> >
> > these memories come pre-packaged,
> > framed, pressed into bordered service;
> > pillared temples, flushed faces, crisp leaves -
> > all are accorded that smooth flat glow
> > denying the rasp of textures, prick
> > of pungencies, barrage of clatter and hum;
> > where be sudden delights, gut rumbles?
> >
>
> Douglas Barbour
> [log in to unmask]
>
> http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
> http://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
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> Latest books:
> Continuations & Continuations 2 (with Sheila E Murphy)
> http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=962
> Recording Dates
> (Rubicon Press)
>
> Reserved books. Reserved land. Reserved flight.
> And still property is theft.
>
> Phyllis Webb
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