Nothing Belongs
An Aesthetic Invitation
Imagine nothing belongs in the house but white daisies
catching the autumn light
on the dining room table:
This is the reason
we are in love, she says,
as she walks over to her favorite painting:
an aesthetic invitation
to go sailing
and have lunch near the water.
Imagine there is more here than art
taking shape from her desire:
there is a room full of birds
flying in circles
near the ceiling, a forest
where the echoes of a chain saw splinter
the kitchen’s perfunctory order.
Imagine she closes the door and draws water
for her evening bath. Her husband
goes out and returns
with cold milk, white eggs:
she thanks him, they kiss–
they watch their son read
about a train chugging up a mountain
loaded with fruit and bread.
Imagine, outside, their daughter builds
mud pies and talks to dogs and toads.
Imagine that soon, only moonlight
will find them,
only darkness will know
their names.
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Scott,
I enjoyed this one. Three-quarters autobiographical, or more? The first stanza is really good, and the second is very thought-provoking (or should I say imagination-provoking?).
This web journal is great — I like the art juxtaposed w/ the poetry, and the “Poetic Glory” is another nice touch. Wordsworth is one of my all-time faves, man!
Dave
Thank you so much David. I would add that our time span spent on this Earth together seems to elucidate your comments and give them more depth. I hope you can sustain yourself through and beyond my recent exercise in pure sin: “How to Make Love.” It is a poem that I had to write, yet somenow I know that when I am supposed to pay the man at the river Styx someday, I will probably come up short. Oh well. I can always come back here and play with words again. By the way, the next installment of the radio program is Tom. at 6:30. I will send you a link on facebook. Again, thank you so much, and, when can we expect a post from you? Scott