Thursday, April 20, 2017

James Walton #49 Jigsaw on Ginsberg's table




grass
between concrete pavers       planted in my spine
browsers gather       snuffling      a sage scent bereft of fabric
bewilders       still they muzzle       trowels and prodders excavate
a mortician’s smile        dust ruminates      settling on old partings
where Learys road     the dead circle      roundabout no exit
whorls     I used to have a hat     taken by street gangs
hanging graffiti     waiting for my luggage     any remembrance
for ticket numbers     has faded with the print     on the Beat’s
hardcopy               



5 comments:

  1. Enjoyed this very much James - is it allowed (or expected!) to move the pieces around within your poem? It feels like it could have many different versions but perhaps, like a real jigsaw, only one correct one.

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    1. Yes the phrases and words can be inter changed, the sequences are pretty mobile, I hope!

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  2. I enjoyed this one heaps too James - the title alone beckoned me in - also love the unexpected and ambiguous open-ended nature of the poem - and the jigsaw. Perhaps there could be a series on this theme?

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    1. Mmmmm, now that's an idea certainly worth pursuing. I'm really so happy that you enjoyed it.

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