Re: Sunbeams, Etc., from Letters to the Enemy; a hypochondrial correspondence ([broken] poems from old notebooks, 2005 – 2010)

This poem got lost in its own obstinate obscurity, and will never be finished. So…I guess it’s finished then.

Re: Sunbeams, Etc., from Letters to the Enemy; a hypochondrial correspondence

Dear Enemy,

Things are well in hand. For example,
today I dissected the sunbeams you’ve spoken of.
Inside was all you’ve lost and forgotten.
Today I dissected sunbeams, viewed them
in cross-section under microscopes, before mirrors,
dusted with distance, and found they contain all desire
               (you may begin to tremble).

In the first, I found an little-leaf linden
dripping a slow liquor from seedpods
and holding, hidden in stubborn green,
the husks and hard yellow bones of many
years of aborted photons (meanwhile
the afternoon moon drifted in the south,
               a pale mockery of cloud).

Yes, things are well in hand. In another,
a rainbarrel decanted dark water,
coolness steeping in spruce needles, twigs
fallen from maples and horse chestnuts,
and occasional mosquito larvae,
while the surface rippled echoes of lips
               (a smile, reflected, dissipated).

And parceled out across many were pieces
of an eagle’s wings spread effortless
above the reedy headwaters of a river.
Now you must think of that eagle—looking
so all-of-a-piece—as I have seen it,
a mist of seeming scattered across sunlight
               (you must think of the eagle).

Yes, everything is well in hand. Today
I dissected sunbeams. I have documents,
research, theories. I have slides of sunbeams
               (you are in more than one).

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Hillsborough River, John MacKenzie, Memory, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetry, Summer, The Moon, Time, [Broken] poems from old notebooks and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Mumble back at me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s