Get 20M+ Full-Text Papers For Less Than $1.50/day. Start a 14-Day Trial for You or Your Team.

Learn More →

Three Poems

Three Poems W . S . D I P I E R O que tal I'm in this bright café, this yellow tropical air: a plaster green toucan and potted palm, motionless heads in thrall to laptop screens and bottomless data mines, when some bereavement, sourceless and angular, visits the heart. Lovers look away from one another, the service girl wipes the counter top, foodcase doilies, coffee-maker, and comes a sagging of life in things. I want to make it comic, mug the camera, do a daffy, feckless song and dance. How unbecoming to receive it here, where my poet writes of his soul tied to a dying animal, and fountain water pours from a jaguar's gristled teeth down to volcanic stone. I hope the water's motion carries me through the hour's heaviness and rain outside, to the bathroom mirror, the humid flesh, the face's pouchings and matchtip scars. Let me be fool enough to read meaning into the twiggy lightning that splits the darkening distance, such meaning as animals like us need to see. The rain falls. The heart, helpless, beats. on a clear night at the end of winter The steady rain isn't really steady. It ticks my http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Three Poems

Manoa , Volume 23 (2) – Mar 16, 2011

Loading next page...
 
/lp/university-of-hawai-i-press/three-poems-fBXvMVx75X
Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2008 University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

W . S . D I P I E R O que tal I'm in this bright café, this yellow tropical air: a plaster green toucan and potted palm, motionless heads in thrall to laptop screens and bottomless data mines, when some bereavement, sourceless and angular, visits the heart. Lovers look away from one another, the service girl wipes the counter top, foodcase doilies, coffee-maker, and comes a sagging of life in things. I want to make it comic, mug the camera, do a daffy, feckless song and dance. How unbecoming to receive it here, where my poet writes of his soul tied to a dying animal, and fountain water pours from a jaguar's gristled teeth down to volcanic stone. I hope the water's motion carries me through the hour's heaviness and rain outside, to the bathroom mirror, the humid flesh, the face's pouchings and matchtip scars. Let me be fool enough to read meaning into the twiggy lightning that splits the darkening distance, such meaning as animals like us need to see. The rain falls. The heart, helpless, beats. on a clear night at the end of winter The steady rain isn't really steady. It ticks my

Journal

ManoaUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: Mar 16, 2011

There are no references for this article.