Addison County Poem
Posted on June 22, 2017 | Blog Category:
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To avoid sounding like poetry
Not Karen practicing her flute. Rather
Dwight, my neighbor beyond her, trying
to start his rototiller again. Pulling
the cord, as if he had more than one
shoulder to give. This poem might need
to start again. One of Danny’s cows, beyond
their two houses is bellowing. Because
she’s about to drop her calf, relieve herself.
Relief one push away. All this puffing
and breathing, gardening and note-playing
could be a third way to begin a poem.
As if there was enough air, most of my
neighbors would say sounds too much
like a flowery poem. Too much like
the poem is trying to avoid sounding
like poetry. A fixed number of lines
per stanza, rhymes a reader can hear
and understand. Not quite like bellowing
and flower. Mickey, my other neighbor,
retired football coach and Christmas
tree entrepreneur, says he’s come to realize
is a poem’s music, too. Not flute
or cow-like, not a backfiring, puffing
machine. But more like two sounds slightly
related. the wind brings together. A phrase
to consider for jumpstarting a sonata,
turning the earth over.
— Gary Margolis, Cornwall