Dear Frederich enjoyed this very informative -but found the reference at
the end 'Schopenhauer.' Intruded and for me a way to imply the meaning would
be better
Bests Patrick
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
Behalf Of Frederick Pollack
Sent: 06 April 2008 22:51
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: rev. "Spring" - 1st six lines clearer
Spring
The lost limb hurts his balance, and he's weak.
Turns red from something like horror
as well as frustration when
he can't pry open a clam,
or gnaw a hole through its shell
to poison it. - Is seen, therefore,
by a smooth shadow blocking the sun;
it descends. He squeezes through
(this power unimpaired) a crack in the stone,
and on the other side
assumes the motley of his neighborhood,
its spiny texture; waits.
Grass waves. Constellated fish
too fast to catch hover and turn
as one, take the light ...
Only his eyes show.
Eventually the shadow leaves,
replaced by vaguer ones of clouds.
He sweeps up a young crab, tries
to walk. That limb
is not regrowing, won't regrow,
hurts. His colors are getting
increasingly out of control.
He jets home, though more visible swimming.
Pulls the door
of bones, shells, rubble towards
the entrance. Eats the crab.
Should scrape the lichen from the rocks inside;
can't. Has maybe a week.
Last month he strangled, gored
a rival near a female's lair;
when she came forth
they danced, went rainbow, and he gave her
that limb. Fed by her
it has burst by now; she has plaited
the eggs (which no one wants to eat)
in strands, and died.
They'll hatch, drift. One who lives
may clear out what remains of him ... A current
sped by the gap
above the door blows part of the crabshell
towards him; repeatedly
he siphons it back. -
One imagines he's thinking about her.
If he could speak, he would speak Schopenhauer.
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