her sewing basket

 

there were many disconnected pieces   fragments

abandoned after some long ago endeavor

failed to materialize   scraps of material in her sewing 

basket   quilts never finished   or the fat and rinds

and trimmings scraped into the trash after a meal was

prepared and served   it was her detritus and

it is dissonant   and now it has come to me to make

sense of it   which seems beyond me   i am not a

tailor or tinker or welder or stitcher of open

wounds   i have no innate problem solving skills   no

insights on how things work   or should work   and

dissonance does not particularly bother me   i

see no valid reason why this need be done   no harm if

it goes undone   yet they want it done   and

they want me to do it   now i have a metaphoric lap

full of disconnected pieces   fragments   like 

a box full of john harrison's leftover wheels and

gears and alloys   make sense of this   it is the ingredients

but the not the recipe   it is neruda's   i keep a

blue bottle   inside it an ear and a portrait   or maybe

stevens’   jar and firecat   or even this ornament

 

 

 





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 188 times
Written on 2019-06-14 at 16:13

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
As it is, it is art. And now it is a great poem.
2019-06-18


Yayāti
Even amid these fragmentary pieces one finds a unison of sorts. I like the way you've connected the sewing basket to the process of writing. The conceit is fresh and organic.
2019-06-17


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nicely done. People say, "Write a poem about...". They don't realize that it usually doesn't work like that.
2019-06-14


Sameen
So, are you trying to make a poem out of it? Or is the poem what you found?
2019-06-14