Thursday, August 28, 2014

Your poem is ajar

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
--- What hill? The hill
where Fragonard hung
a slovenly wilderness. 
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around --- but
why a jar? --- Aigh! As if that answered
anything. --- Ah, yes. The jar was round
upon the ground and of a port in air.
It took dominion every where,
and was gray and --- but why a jar?
It did not give of bird or bush ---
Which jar?
Aigh, Dominion maybe. How
should I know?
What hill? What jar?
It did not give of bird
or bush --- but why a jar?
I said a hill in Tennessee.

* at last I have figured out that what I want to say when I talk about this poem is actually in reference to this poem. Clearly they needed to be stirred together.

No comments: