Tuesday, 13 March 2007
Three Poems by Andrew Bailey
i - after Basho
See! What is there between us
this fine spring day but this sparrow?
I clap; it is gone.
You frown. Noble gases, nitrogen,
oxygen - your miniaturised machine
can calculate the volume of between
us and the likely motion of its contents.
Schrödinger, I say, passim; you know as I do
one day these will leap from between us
as water from a glass.
ii - after Goethe
Hey there, heavensent,
you're camomile and valium;
double soothe the double blues,
I'm tired of being human.
What's the ouch for? What the mmm?
Come on, peace, come on,
hey, come in where the heart drums.
iii - after Mallarmé
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Poems plan you, a period of you into two,
of elsewhere accepted. Feel if anything
within takes - it is not up to you, but
the correspondence of a simultaneous body.
Or sample Gists and Piths' editors. It won't
be original and will not please the DOT.
Currently the poem is free, unpublished,
no attachments; the read and accepted
are no longer open, are final. The editors
know it won't submit, as they won't submit,
to the DOT. The free poem advances its own
neo-homeric sequence, lets the decision
back within, will not let the DOT
say no. Hello. We're editors. Six please.
I know you. You dream of me
and do not yet recall it.
I don't care who you sleep beside,
if they're stuffed or breathing;
your thoughts have been jerking
in thick black tar with me,
there are fingerprints to prove it
in intimate, mirrorless places.
O gorgeous, I know how you think of me,
and when. Let's.