Hope's Amanuensis
by Bill Yarrow
I was hope's amanuensis
but I was low on carburetor
oxygen and my fraud protection
had just expired. If asked how
I was feeling, I would have said,
“Triangular,” but the truth was
I felt an osculatory unhappiness
circumnavigate my soul. I was no
stranger to such feelings. Indeed,
they had inhabited me longer than
my flab uncle's been working out,
but there are worse things in the world
than unhappiness: capillary wealth.
contagious cleansing, wound jewelry.
Great lines, phrases, words, imagery; with mystery and sadness, resignation and acceptance: Buddha-like.
Great phrasing in the center of this piece -
"I was feeling, I would have said,
“Triangular,” but the truth was
I felt an osculatory unhappiness
circumnavigate my soul."
Really like the voice there. Also, like your occasional use of enjambments throughout. Effective. Good piece, Bill.
In all your poems, Bill, there is an outstanding attention to each word. This poem is no different. Excellent.
..If asked how
I was feeling, I would have said,
“Triangular,” ..that to me is the true essence of the thing at hand and the sound it makes that is undescribable to normal ears.Neat!
For some strange reason, this piece reminds me of Independence Day by Richard Ford--an amazing encapsulation of the layers upon layers of Frank Bascombe's exhaustion and angst, but there it is.
this is reminiscent of michael robins' wonderful ability to put disjointed contemporary vernacular into the riff (check out this month's Harpers). This a good celebration of language & structure, nicely accessible too.
well done.