Thursday, May 18, 2006

A new poem, finally. Well I've been sick... and stuff.

I Borrowed a Dream to Tell You This

I gave birth in a library
smell of dried worms in the stacks
in between Harding and Pierce
old webs to wipe up the afterbirth
ribbons of pink and black

my baby scuttled away before I could Christen him
before I could put him to my breast
and make him human

now I will crawl after him forever
a poor thing of words and bones
smelling of burnt hair
bleating like a little goat
like a tiny angry baby goat
skating on the ice and falling
and falling again against
your hot white shins


Thanks to my friend Kerry for the goat.


Gabriel said...

A couple questions about the last strophe:
(L2) a poor thing of words and bones

"words and bones" seems a bit easy, which gave the line a non-presence in my reading. I think it has something to do with the profusion of words like "bones" in poetry.

(L5-8)like a tiny angry baby goat
skating on the ice and falling
and falling again against
your hot white shins

(L5) Here is parodic without a subject, and seemed like a substantial tone shift to me. That in itself is just ducky, but it may threaten the tension of the conclusion.

(L8)"your" dislocates the falling in L6, which caused a bit of confusion. Might be something to look at.

Of course, it's also very possible that I've no idea what I'm saying.

Amanda Auchter said...

You know what I love? That you're a psychotherapist AND a poet. I've found that many poets are a) psychotherapists b) poets and c)in need of clinical examination.

I'm very excited that you're a & b.

Oh, and love the recent poems!

Christine said...

Hi Amanda! Good to hear from you. Yes, I am A and B, although much less so a therapist than in the past. I haven't technically therapized anyone since 2005. Although I have poeticized people.

Gabriel-- welcome, and thanks so much for the detailed comment. You're right, words and bones is awfully easy.

I included the your at the end to refer to the you in the title -- the audience of the poem. Hmmm. I'm not sure if I wanted parody -- I'll have to look at that.

Michael said...

Humm... have you poeticized people on a couch? Sorry Christine, had to ask. I think there is a poem lurking somwhere there ;)