Monday, April 9, 2012

U.S. BIRTH GRAPH, 1946-1962 (revised)

behind a decommissioned half-track

on the kitchen table, the radio blaring

in the middle of a raspberry u-pick

while waiting at a railway crossing

ten minutes into a twenty-minute nap

inspired by a new and improved design

at a time of global economic certainty

with no thought given to the neighbours

despite recent gains in public awareness

beside the window, the television blaring

under the influence of Lysol Disinfectant

between a glass of wine and a box of novels

eight days before the next menstrual cycle

immediately following the six o’clock news

against all odds – and a latticework fence

where demand for reconciliation appears low

towards the advancement of colored people

below a yellowing photo of John Bell Hood

beyond what passes for stasis and change

*

Last week I asked a poet I know to critique my poem "U.S. Birth Graph, 1946-1964" (posted on Saturday). She had a number of comments, most of them focused on my use of personal pronouns, how they created confusion. While I am interested in confusion, I decided to rewrite the poem without these pronouns, using the same constraint as in the previous version.

Readers will note that the revised poem uses both Canadian and U.S. spellings, as well as the Canadian "railway" over the U.S. "railroad". My use of the Canadian spelling of "neighbourhood" comes from a Canadian education; my use of the U.S. spelling of "colored" is based on its referent: the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), an organization that continues to this day.

I am still not happy with this poem (particularly the last line) and will likely make further changes. If any should come to mind, please let me know.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

U.S. BIRTH GRAPH, 1946-1964

behind a decommissioned half-track

on the kitchen table, the radio blaring

in the middle of a raspberry u-pick

while waiting at a railway crossing

twenty minutes into a five mile hike

at the wedding of his younger brother

at the completion of her baccalaureate

beside the window, with no one watching

under the influence of Burson-Marsteller

with his mother coming up the front steps

with her father in the back pruning a fig

between a bowl of chips and a box of novels

eight days before the next menstrual cycle

immediately following the six o’clock news

against all odds – and a latticework fence

with her on her knees and him on assignment

below a yellowing photo of Joseph Kennedy

towards the advancement of colored people

behind the times and besides the changes

*

The above poem began as a horizontal bar graph of live births recorded in the United States between 1946-1964, what is known as the Baby Boom.

For my part I have taken these numbers and, using a 1:100,000 ratio, replaced them with characters and the spaces in-between words. For example, if there were 4.3 million live births in 1957, then I have given myself 43 spaces to come up with a line (“with his mother coming up the front steps").

As for the content of the poem, you might have guessed that each line is an instance where conception could have taken place, and that the sequence could be described as a narrative.

A problem I had in composing this poem concerned the representation of fractions, as eight of the years/lines are in the tens of thousands. Because I am not interested in creating 1/10th of a letter (see Donato Mancini for that) I applied the fraction to the spacing of the fractioned line, something that will require a designer. As for the dash, while it requires two hyphens to make, it appears here as a single uninterrupted mark.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Monday, April 2, 2012

SYNESTHESIA

coffee is no longer where it comes from, but how

when the ends are increasingly assumed

ethics you can taste, politics on the tip of your tongue

the roof of the mouth is still a roof like ketchup was a vegetable

food and shelter -- the irreducible minimum – and from this seed

a stadium, the welfare state, with its own lip services paid for

by Postwar Economic Growth, the team that keeps on winning

the United States the Globetrotters, the Generals Everyone Else

not a cosmos but a line ascending, the straighter the better

like those Apollo rockets and their ferocious lift-offs

not The Economy we were watching but a rehearsal

of that which has become a tendency to associate rockets

with economies, not the opposite of bombs dropped

concurrently on Hanoi, Nam Dinh and Viet Tri

but the appearance of an opposite

because what was sent to the moon

and what fell on North Vietnam

was the coffee mom bought at the supermarket

the loss-leader bananas that lured her there

coffee still comes from the same places

but it is the treatment of its pickers

that gives it its taste