I’ve spent today planning my upcoming Green Backyard workshops – details of which will be revealed soon. I’m really really excited about them, I get to talk about some of my favourite poems and why I love them so much. In practising the exercises, I wrote a poem that I wanted to share.
I’ll explain the thought process behind the poem at the workshop, so keep an eye out for when the deetz go live. Wouldn’t want to spoil the magic trick. Here’s the poem.
You obey his entry elegy;
poorly linked elbows,
levers between him – bastard haircut, pen legs;
and you – thonged ass, empty oven.
You are jolly, balanced oars,
rowing to his place;
the bed has enough moonlight,
the mirror has a river.
to see last night’s grease
talk and tease.
He offers you a tea,
enter agreements of lost pardons, rose leaves –
a pest you couldn’t learn to love.
Your belly is oval,
the strip semaphores the verdict.
Little water vessel from an unknown caller;
all you remember from the quest
is the rolling oar and the sand banks.