Kit Kelen #272 - demons of analogy

272

demons of analogy

the poem grows

from a crevice in feeling

where some stray spore

of hunch set down

so between us

it is a drift in meaning

aside of what was

meant before

beauty can be terrible

will it even be allowed

to consist in words?

how else can it be?

some days think flower

wind up the wings

others you know

it will be weeded out

the poem takes down its pants

spins web of star

is it not whorl and cross?

you just don't get it, do you?

grows on the bone

it tells truth least expected

a different one each time

the mouths of things make this

there are no lines between

but script is substance

and there's leading

other lives and worlds there

one keeps calling

will it come?

no one dares write

a poem about it

but just this once

some would like

to train it over a trellis

up a wall, push the sky yearning

many wish for a harvest

they say the poem finished

is exactly how it had to be

I see John Barleycorn

bundled and cut

down for the count

let's drink!

sun bleaches, rain rots

but the poem grows simply

from a crevice in feeling

where some stray spore

of hunch set down