Tomorrow at noon Catriona Strang and I will read at SFU's noon hour
Lunch Poems series. In looking for things to read, I came across five lines I started last year, only to lose track of them.
Re-reading these lines, which seem to characterize a condition, I wondered how I might ground them. That's when Peter came to mind.
So that's what I did yesterday: finished my poem while walking through the woods with Pete.
PASSE-PARTOUT
for Peter Culley
doctors all yourself
bounds not where
it hurts or when
a numbness does
its presence such
as stopped to light
dumb rustles felt
a feathered breath
since ferns from this
is listened into
pictures
*
watchers call on elves
hounds are there
this flirts for sense
the wonder of
its pheasant bunch
past all last night
some dozen welts
untethered hence
it burns from this
it glistens in you
sutured
*
poachers caught on film
soundless air
within this fence
an unspooled stump
this pleasant lunch
with all its might
no one to help
another went
pictures of him
en passe-partout
torture
*
climbing up an elm
on a dare
hitherto dead
what fooled you once
is too much fun
give up the sight
so much for self
a plundered sense
midges hover
in this instance
aborted
*
falling on post-health
bounds not where
this flirts for sense
an unspooled stump
is too much fun
as stopped to light
past all last night
with all its might
a feathered breath
it burns from this
en passe-partout
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