Monday, January 16, 2012

Sometimes You Don't


a leaf blew through an open window 
driving fast

the colour of skin
I was on my way 

my children’s bones 
covered in skin

there were sirens
ambulances & police 

the trees like fathers

trying not to personify 



think about how
it makes me feel

a broken-headed squirrel
down my pants

a music stand
in one ear then out
the next

a papercut
discussed in an email

chimp kisses
with a snow-blower


[Looking through old computer files, compiling a MS. What to do with THESE?}


Pearl said...

like the first word-one. do. what to do with anything.

you saw this?

gary barwin said...

Thanks, Pearl.

What to do?
What to do with anything?
I also like to think of something I remember reading in an interview with the very prolific James Tate. He was saying, basically, if you can't get something to do work, don't worry. There's always more where it came from. We are a constant flow of work, particularly when we don't get hung up on past attempts. Sometimes bits and pieces of things or even semi-good poems are just works-not-in-progress-anymore and it pays to move on. Not that some things aren't worth fighting with, pushing to develop until there's a breakthrough. But this is through voice and not necessity or desperation. Anyway, useful advice. And thanks for the link to the ampersands. I hadn't seen. Hope you're well.