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SPARK RAVING BLUE
Scene I.
Putting himself into shelter from elements
Calculations and processes, our man begins
Chattering for months on end up to the point
Where health
Became an issue like money like love
—behind summer beyond spring and fall
(winter never really was worth considering)
Eastern traditions sprung up among
So much concrete, steel and glass and so much
Artificial lighting
Give him such great excuses to force
Words into the ears of all passerby
So much innocent bystanding
Thrown up from the whitest sea-kissed sands,
"I never bother catching names,
faces, bodies, voices are so much more important
than all that labeling that goes on in delivery rooms,
bathrooms and bus stop changing rooms"
Scene II.
Through with moments, setting up prescriptions
Thus for a limited time only—at right angles to
The throb and gush of stars and all those
Who give them the attention they
May or may not deserve
In similarities that startle at times
The
taste, metallic and minty
The taste of money of air
Desperately grasping at meaning
Letting go with such ease
That it makes him sleepy
Scene III.
Concentration
Watching so many stand in queues
To get into these attractions
Every single thing that she would tell him
—of course there was love, would you expect
anything
less?—
He wrapped it all up
Stuffed it into all those rooms they
used to live in
All
the places they would visit
Along sidewalks he walked
With her
Her name on the tip of every second
Scene IV.
These looks seem so vicious
Amid all that light and high prices
Blues and their subsequent shades
Reductions and methods
This is not about method
Sequence, frequency or submission
Our
man has thrown love
"Right out the fucking window."
Patrick Seguin is an expat Canadian living in Prague
for the last few years, where he publishes his one-man
zine, "Rash," which is distributed for free in
countries all around the world. You can pick up a copy
any Friday night between 6-8pm at the Cornelia Street
Cafe.
Read some more poems by
Patrick here on poetz.com |