(A Nonettenon Poem)
It’s all downhill from here, and I’m not
talking about skiing either.
I’m not talking about how
you soar like an eagle
or feel free as the
wind or all that
other junk
poets
like
to
blather
about. I’m
talking about
letting go, total
freefall, panic in your
belly and fire in your eyes:
the moment when you’re about to
quit but decide to sprout wings instead.
Monday, April 21, 2008
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3 comments:
you know i have a thing about icarus (right?). i love the *shape* of this poem - wings on their sides. the shape itself is poetic. should that be "NonettenoN"? ;)
i get stuck on "junk" and "blather" - something about those two word choices doesn't quite fit, for me. especially when juxtaposed with "panic in your/ belly and fire in your eyes," so evocative and rhythmically fluid, despite the broken line. i'm envious of that kind of craft. very cool.
i didn't know you have a thing about icarus, but i have a huge thing about icarus. he's one of my favorite people. i keep coming back and back and back to that story.
when i lived in paris i took the RER B line (the blue one that goes all the way out to the airport) nearly every day. each train had different codes to indicate its route - RPEP was one, that made the three stops before the urban zone, then went express until the gare du nord ; and the one that made every stop between robinson (two stops south of mine) and aéroport charles-de-gaulle-étoile (about 17 stops north) had the code ICARE (french for icarus). i took that train as often as i could.
i never did learn why it bore that name - maybe the link between underground and sky? the folly of travelling at full speed beneath the belly of the city, seeing nothing but unblack tunnels unraveled out scratched windows too quickly to trace? or some clever train-coder's dream of parisian mythology?
i left paris before i learned whether one of the other trains (other dreams, other myths) was coded "DAEDALUS" …
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