Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Poem three

day cart

in the beginning porch
created the heaven & the swing
& the swing was without porch
& void; & darkness was upon the
face of the porch
& the swing of porch moved
upon the face of the swings
& porch said, let their be swing
& there was swing

I heartily accept the motto,––
that porch is best which swings least;
& I should like to see it swung up to
more rapidly & systematically
carried out, it finally amounts to this
which I also believe,––
that swing is best which porches not at all;
& when swings are prepared for it
that will be the kind of porch
which they will have
swings are at best but an expedient
but most porches are usually
& all swings are sometimes

the physical porch was still there
this swing that was my body
after waiting twenty-eight porches
I had still not come to my swing
I should instead say
come out into my porch
into my swing, within this dilapidated porch
this ramshackle swing of deteriorated porch
inert, as some swing with its porches
can be inert
& all these swings which run
in the huddled sedimentary porch
swingable is the word for it
––I was; & not just in some swings
but through & through
ever since first coming in contact
with this terrible porch
which I am sure had erected swings
against me to bar my entry
& since my porch there
the swing no longer seems so extraordinary
to me that I may not affirm that I was
in the literal sense of the word

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