STRANGE BUT INEVITABLE POETIC TRUTHS

Published in Sein und Werden
Spring/Summer 2022 – The ‘What If’ Issue.

A favourite tactic:
try not to be yourself.
This involves courageous leaps:

What would a child do here?
A scientist?
A pig called Napoleon?
Orwell imagined authoritarian
farmyards and invested
in the down-and-outer life on London streets.

The poet rides a mood into a bank
of clouds. He attempts to land
safely like a parachutist
touching down
in meadow grass.

Daily living is a scavenger hunt.
The poet scavenges
for purple flannel flowers
on Monday, writes a poem on Tuesday
sells tickets to the fall of Icarus
on Wednesday.

A real estate agent dreams
of a richer inner life.
He hears about a creativity implant.
Name your price, he says.

The poet toys with titles:
Caring Spoils Everything.
God Knows, We Need Fresh Visions.
Loneliness
of the Long-Distance Writer.

Joyce Carol Oates ran religiously
said how much it helped.
Her readers want to know if she ran from
or towards.

Was it helpful to scream
under the roar
of the train on the railway bridge?
It was.
Seeing the vigilante movie
also helped.

Want to make things better?
First allow them to get worse.

The news star, on the verge
of resignation, says we should edit
our lives ruthlessly and frequently.
What will she do next?

Definition of spiritual gall:
the belief in a supreme deity watching
over you. Definition of spiritual
humility: A Ryokan monk dragging
his tobacco tin
by a length of string.

Poets need gall and humility.
The gall to conjure an oasis from nothing
the humility to peddle it
in the marketplace.

The poet has a website –
think obscure country lane
on which a goat comes
strolling, a flannel flower between its teeth.

Please, words, the poet says
do your job
unobtrusively
like a soundless doorman
granting passage.

The father of poet Hart Crane
invented the famous candy rings
called lifesavers.
Hart’s life ended when he jumped ship
and drowned in the Atlantic
on a rough night
involving alcohol and sailor boys.

The poet’s shirt is a spinnaker
to lure the wind. The collar is frayed
the tie a noose, and one
of his legs is caught in the current.

Audrey frees the leg
and the couple go for a hike.
Flora and fauna chaperone them:
sassafras and strung-out water vines
Lilly pillies and all-singing lyrebirds
darting ahead on the track.

Audrey and the poet set up camp
in a clearing flanked by
smooth-barked apple trees.

The poet follows the path
to the escarpment drop.
He admires the cliff and edges closer.
What would the real-deal do here?
The poet skips a step
back and eats a pear with headphones on
to amplify the crunch.

At dawn, the couple emerge
life-struck from their tent.
The trunks of the apple barks
are converting sunlight
into art.

What would a cat
with three lives left do here?
What would an artist do here?
Hold the magnifying glass
dead still
and wait for sparks.