Monday, March 07, 2005

no linear narrative, preceding or next

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This fractal belongs to Adam Brown.

There’s a theory that all poems are about poetry. It has occurred to me too that in some way all blogs are about blogging. Patty Seyburn’s got a poem in the winter issue of The Paris Review that reminds me of what I love about both. It’s called “The Alphabetizer Speaks.”

I have my reasons

have never known starvation nor plenitude
and unless the order of the world
changes, I won’t.
If the order of the world changes, I will
disappear, the way some vowels
elide into their word-bodies
or an individual blade recedes
into a field each season.

Will my daughter carry on this way?
I cannot yet tell her qualities—
if she prefers scale to chance, sequence to random.
And this may mean nothing.
I find chaos theory appealing, and eavesdrop on talk
of black holes, chasms, any abyss
that fetters sense. I relish
the desultory in many matters,
am slovenly, a slacker, a slave to caprice.
Except with the letters.

There is such thing as a calling
though I cannot speak for prophets or martyrs.
I have been summoned
by people of stature and the low-stationed,
comrade and debutante alike.
My eyes suffer, and my hands, my back.

I am my profession. It is no whim.
I do not want the world a certain way.
The world is that way, and I am a vehicle
on the road of nomenclature. I tend the road.

In my dream, all events coterminous—
no linear narrative, preceding or next.
The odd vignette, lone scene, an image
in isolation, no neighbors.
Then I awaken and pace
my thin balcony, calculating
how much of me waits above, how much
lives below, and I pose
the question of balance. My name
cues the turn home.

4 Comments:

Blogger DanaiShips said...

What is life but "an odd vignette" anyway? Lovely poem. It reminds me of a Monti Pythons song in "The meaning of Life" : just reember you're in a planet that is constantly evolving...
P.S. Dear Dystro...I'm confused. I stambled in the nootropia blog, where you appear as the only contributor, but the posts are signed by chronoos. Is this an alter ego kind of thing, or what?
P.S. At least in my life I'm the red-haired, not the blonde. But it's a joke nontheless...

1:40 pm EET  
Blogger Melissa McEwan said...

That's absolutely lovely.

5:40 pm EET  
Blogger dystropoppygus said...

Unless perhaps it's put to music and turned into "lyrics"? Hey - that's my reason.

8:35 am EET  
Blogger soap said...

vague, maybe you’d like this version. It was Dys’s idea; I’m just the messenger.

Still, I'm pleasantly surprised that there is an audience for poetry; I'll keep it in mind, but don't sweat it, boys, I won't overdo it.

Loxias, what can I offer to sweeten the deal? (And don't think it's any less confusing from within these hallowed walls -- you get about as much notice of who's coming or going as I do.)

12:03 pm EET  

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