Thanks, Doug. That's a lot of jazz you can listen to when the flying time is twenty four hours to Melbourne from Paris. Some nod is desirable. I did read a litle poetry from the late Philip Hodgins, Up on all fours, thanks to Max R.
Bill
On 06/06/2013, at 1:03 AM, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Well, the 'you' is fine, the story fun, Bill. And tall (or sort) tale it is.
>
> I sit up & read, occasionally drift off, & listen to jazz & classics the whole way....
>
> Doug
> On 2013-06-05, at 4:30 AM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>> I'm a prosey sort of poet I suppose, Pat. It was an incident that I felt compelled to commit to paper nonetheless.
>>
>> Cheers,
>> Bill
>>
>> On 05/06/2013, at 5:43 PM, Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>
>>> Hi Bill it seems to read to me as prose???sort of rambly -but what do I
>>> know!!cheers P
>>> Needs tightening /edit?? Over and out
>>>
>>> -----Original Message-----
>>> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
>>> Behalf Of Bill Wootton
>>> Sent: 04 June 2013 23:56
>>> To: [log in to unmask]
>>> Subject: Some advice sought on Sleepstaking snap
>>>
>>> Some advice sought:
>>>
>>> 1. How's the structure?
>>> 2. Is erratic line length a bother?
>>> 3. Can I get away with using second person? (or do I just overuse you
>>> instead of I, Doug?)
>>> 4. Should I excise my wife?
>>> 5. Anything else?
>>>
>>>
>>> Sleepstaking on high
>>>
>>> Here's how it can pan out if you
>>> go head to head with a blonde.
>>>
>>> Looks like you've lucked in.
>>> En route from Zurich to Singapore,
>>> you and your wife score two connecting window seats
>>> but right opposite in the aisle, there they are:
>>> FOUR consecutive aisle seats, vacant.
>>>
>>> 1. Pre-game manoeuevres
>>>
>>> On your last trip, you'd been diddled. You can't make a move
>>> until the seatbelt sign goes off, your wife said.
>>> But someone did.
>>> And the prime four were snatched up
>>> and stretched out upon, before you could raise a gaze.
>>> This time, you move early,
>>> click your seatbelt on in seat one in the aisle possy.
>>> Just as well. Hovering to descend, from behind,
>>> a claiming cardigan ready to drop over the top.
>>> Your bum hits first. The hand withdraws.
>>> Set.
>>> But you can't lie down and spread out on all four seats yet,
>>> even when the seatbelt sign flicks off -
>>> cabin lights are still on; there'll be a meal to withstand first.
>>>
>>> 2. Game on
>>>
>>> But before your tray is cleared,
>>> SHE is there.
>>> A twenty, perhaps thirty-something blonde
>>> at the other aisle end of your virgin four,
>>> flicking through a Cosmopolitan.
>>> Your eyes meet briefly.
>>> Neither side acknowledges or withdraws.
>>> After tray clear, you look left again and she's down.
>>> Upped the middle arm rest and her neat golden curls
>>> rest on two pillows up against the middle armrest.
>>> You're halved. Quadruple empire reduced to a paltry double.
>>> You consider proposing a parlay:
>>> Fair do's. With ten hours ahead,
>>> you could offer to return to your legit seat
>>> and she have the first five hours fully stretched,
>>> You'll take the second watch, you could say.
>>> But your wife will have none of it.
>>> She's liking her twin paradise.
>>> So you enter the field of fray.
>>> Head to the other side of the middle armrest
>>> on your own double pillow stack and curl up
>>> so your feet do not to the aisle protrude.
>>>
>>> You last five minutes.
>>> Ridiculously uncomfortable,
>>> you spring up and consider new options.
>>> If you lean back and splay your legs obliquely
>>> you are clearly occupying space and it is less constricting.
>>> Just so you are both aware however, you plonk
>>> your shoulder bag and undone crossword
>>> on the seat adjacent to you. No territory conceded.
>>> Then the skewiff position becomes untenable
>>> so you straighten up in your aisle row seat
>>> but casually add your headphones to seat two
>>> after watching a French film about a street fighter
>>> who gets the tripe beaten out of him and his girl
>>> who loses her lower legs to a killer whale.
>>> Trifles.
>>> Your head turns only to see that
>>> a surreptitious move has been made.
>>> The seat divider is up and yes,
>>> there is definitely head creep
>>> over the mid-line. But it's subtle:
>>> none of your deposits have been touched.
>>> A bird's eye would show she now occupies nearly two-thirds.
>>> You effect a bit of side splay again so one leg stretches straight ahead;
>>> the other slightly bent under the adjacent seat.
>>> Then you drift off, desultorily.
>>>
>>> 3. End game
>>>
>>> After what can only be minutes
>>> you awaken and glance left.
>>> She's gone. Nothing
>>> but stacked blankets
>>> and idle pillows.
>>> Your chance.
>>> You stretch out fully
>>> occupying the full four seats.
>>> It is only just bearable.
>>> Your shoulder is scrunched,
>>> the seat belts bite into your side
>>> and the seat dividers don't flatten fully.
>>> Still, you fit.
>>> Until the cabin lights come blaring on.
>>> Breakfast time.
>>>
>>> Unpacking your hand luggage from the overhead cabins,
>>> you snatch a glance across the Rubicon aisle seats.
>>> She's already collected her hand luggage
>>> and is waiting on her side to disembark,
>>> hair wisps perky,
>>> radiating refreshment.
>>> With nary a backward glance,
>>> the wordless encountress leaves you in her blonde wake.
>
> Douglas Barbour
> [log in to unmask]
>
> http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
> http://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
>
> Latest books:
> Continuations & Continuations 2 (with Sheila E Murphy)
> http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=962
> Recording Dates
> (Rubicon Press)
>
> You know, verse
> is a lovely thing.
>
> It issues,
> like the vapors,
>
> from the rock
>
> Charles Olson
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
|