spine poem #9: hay(na)ku
The widening spell
of the
leaves,
my life corrupted
into song.
Pure,
unattainable earth where
now, as
ever,
testimony is music
beginning with
O…
spine poem #9: hay(na)ku
The widening spell
of the
leaves,
my life corrupted
into song.
Pure,
unattainable earth where
now, as
ever,
testimony is music
beginning with
O…
spine poem #8
“Spring shade, spring essence.”
Song of the departed stranger.
Music, imitations, illuminations.
To be the poet even in quiet
places: Turtle Island, Flower
Wreath Hill, backroads
to far towns…
spine poem #7
Overtime field work,
temporary help:
why aren’t you at work?
This afternoon, while looking for something else, I stumbled on the site where I first encountered book spine poems: Stan Carey’s Sentence First. He’s been at it since 2010, inspired by artist Nina Katchadourian’s Sorted Books project, which she began back in 1993.
spine poem #6
Mermaids in the basement
howl ravishing disunities: these
are not sweet girls.
spine poem #5
Locusts at the edge of
summer, harping on all day.
Permanent red blood:
tin, straw, ashes.
For breakfast: scrambled
eggs and whiskey.
spine poem #4
Bedouin of the London
evening, nobody’s
Ezekiel, seeing
things of no country
I know. Things
stirring together
or far away, imaginary
vessels, terrible blooms.
spine poem #3
Stealing sugar
from the castle,
playing the black
piano, passing
through broken
hierarchies: the heart
is strange.
spine poem #2
Oceanic codes,
appearing in
the middle distance
above the river, tug
the great enigma from
one life to another.
spine poem #1
The novice insomniac, sleeping
with the dictionary, calling a wolf
a wolf…
My vocabulary did this to me.
It’s National Poetry Month. Since I am one of the Unacknowledged Legislators of the World, I suppose I should do what I can to promote poetry.
So this month, I will post the occasional “book spine poem,” composed of titles from my poetry collection…
The first follows soon.