You can say it, Jill. Thank you. I did at one point try it without "yet";
I'm not sure why now, just seeking to eradicate the unnecessary and
getting it wrong, I suppose. Anyway, the whole poem screamed at me - don't
dare touch me like that, or something of that sort
L
On 15 October 2014 20:26, Jill Jones <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> It's the sounds in this that seem important.
> Somehow, i also feel the ending on 'yet' to be extraordinarily
> poignant, if I can say that.
> J
>
> ________________________ ill Jones www.jilljones.com.au
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Poetryetc: poetry and poetics"
> To:
> Cc:
> Sent:Wed, 15 Oct 2014 11:27:26 +0100
> Subject:Still life
>
> A little noise, a little space; a little curvature; clicking of
> connections
> together, scraping of missed contacts, pain jammed with speech...
>
> a spill of laughter rolls down the side of its storage jar,
> spreading,
> thinning, slowing...
>
> speech pushed into pain to make it swish...
>
> curlicues of wire in a wire depth, cables trail the ground over
> distressed
> soil...
>
> sea breaks on a ridge of shingle; beech tree creaks against itself; a
> field
> begins to dry and crack...
>
> the talk is wearing thin; the pain sticks out, the drink runs out;
> the
> silence is wet and sticky, echoing inside itself..
>
> nothing fits properly yet
>
>
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