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This travels through a wide range of tones & kinds of discourse, Lawrence.I followed each one, but wasn’t sure how they all sat together. That ‘git’ felt like it came out of nowhere when it appeared, for example. The first stanza I read & followed, as syntax, but can’t quite ‘see.’ Then suddenly I’m watching a skeet shooter, who speaks in a high manner. And maybe near the end, I go back & see that first stanza as a yoyo? But ‘his’ speech is another register, one that given who he seems to be presented s sounds a bit too highfalutin? So, as a reader, I’m not sure how it all hangs together, although that final stanza does reflect backward & begin to bring the rest into a whole. If that all makes sense… Doug On Aug 26, 2015, at 7:14 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > I saw a man hold a made thing > > twined in tough cord which held *him* straight > > as a prisoner might show itself > > in restraint. He threw the odd device > > downwards into the air. It rolled > > out its tether backwards dropping > > till *that* jerked hard at its ending, > > the escapade suddenly dead, > > as if a trap had been banged wide > > open unexpectedly beneath > > > > yet the round body pulled itself up > > upwards into a salvation > > from whence it took the drop again > > > > like clay birds all day flying up > > identical factory products > > without their own conscious power > > > > or a dog fetching a ball more times > > than it can count, self-persuaded > > that it's autonomous and free. > > > > “This,” said the man, with nonchalance, > > “reminds me of my staff at work. > > They do not realise control > > is beyond their hands. All they want > > is the string and how it works right here > > with them dependent on its knots > > which they cannot retie. Weak minds, > > each self-aware, they believe; so proud; > > but hindered by what's possible, > > planning regime variations > > while they are first governed, and then > > let loose, completely, on a leash. > > What they eat, what they drink, we sell > > with ease; what they decide, I have > > suggested to them many ways, > > as I too am chained entangled > > stapled by hard steel to constructs > > I have been offered and agreed > > to love, to keep the money thick > > in my wallet, big coins weighing > > towards the buried iron core > > of limited understanding... > > What do I know of final things? > > I'm sure I am retained. Thus I > > am not enslaved. I do enslave.” > > > > Thus, you, unfriend, who always said > > the best thing to each one of us > > to keep us obedient, are now > > neither a yoyo nor player; > > a fake; a manipulator > > who reworks incoherent rage, > > which might, just, make sense; but doesn't. > > There is no part original > > in what you have written or said. > > There is scant substance to your speech > > with much meaningful malign intent... > > > > You fooled me, yes; and many more, > > till I grew weary of your moods... > > > > Some may come yet and hear utterance > > that builds up some implications > > according to what you purport... > > > > You are a disappointing git! > > All your words mean rather little; > > and, what you say, you've said before > > twenty years ago; further still. > > Many were impressed by your talk, > > but I think them to be trite fools > > for all they speak in a register > > reserved for smug theologians; > > building their own theory coffins > > while, as with all systemic faith, > > they malign bodies politic. Douglas Barbour [log in to unmask] Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuation 2 (UofAPress). Recording Dates (Rubicon Press). Done in by creation itself. I mean the gods. Not us. Well us too. The gods moved into books. Who wrote the books? We wrote the books. In whose dream, then are we dreaming? Robert Kroetsch.