This Old Drag

i say there’s an 
between holes in the 
ocean and no one 
believes me

 (just add a 
 tin can, it’s 
 than a cup of 

 i remember 
 one day 
 being born 
 the sun hissed 
 by my window

 the silence was
 rounder than a 

 not real silence 
 but a kind of
 paper bag
 not my 
 to touch 
 the earth
 this old drag

12 responses to “This Old Drag”

  1. This poem is incredibly dazzling and spectacularly written. Your intention to find a new style is clearly felt, and I’m sure you have succeeded. Excellent work from a genius like you; and again, powerful… Deep breathing. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What you say about the musicality of language is very interesting. It reminds me of a good friend who gave up painting for a while to dedicate himself to poetry. He began by writing conventional poems – many even in consonant rhyme – but he immediately had the idea of ​​inventing, since not a new language, an alphabet proper to the customary language. First, he mixed together with the vowels on the one hand and the consonants on the other; thus the word “mountain” was read “vambele” and the word “monkey” was now written “vama”. At a later stage, disregarding all sound logic, he decided to freely exchange consonants and vowels, which produced unpronounceable words like “xgtifhm” or “spsutk”. From these experiments emerged a kind of private alphabet, which my friend came to master with astonishing ease, and also a book called “My Alphabet”, full of poems impossible to recite. To everyone’s surprise – even the author – a publishing house was interested in the book and offered to publish it on the sole condition that, as a preface or warning, the two alphabet books – the current one and his – would confront each other and remain from the beginning clarified the counter-figure. My friend, by now thrown back into painting, immediately and firmly refused. I was able to read the letter he wrote to the editor. The intention of his book, he asserted, was “to make sign rather than signifying “; in this sense, he concluded, “nothing is more impertinent than a kind of access code”.

    Ciao does not mean goodby. :-).

    Liked by 1 person

    • Well, that’s an interesting story. It must have been a lot of work for your friend to construct his own alphabet. One thing I have noticed–and this is important, I think–is that the logic of a poem changes when one’s main focus is rhythmic. That is interesting to me, and the effect, I think, is that one has created, or is speaking, another language. It is the sound, then, that gives the poem much of its power. Ciao–and not goodbye–for the moment. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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