When
he’s gone in a transport of pounding,
my
heart leaves the duties of his station
to
a substitute entity. He’s found
several
who can sustain circulation
for
a dozen pulses, or there around—
the
entire blood vessel network, for one.
The
heart’s in good hands as they coax the blood
and
soul en masse onward while he’s undone.
Drums
also stand in for my heart, their thud
stoking
and choking my fire with low sound.
And
sometimes an unpredictable flood
drives
my heart to grab a far-flung back up:
an
ear of corn, in husk; The Iliad;
the
thought of quartz; a chipped, China teacup;
or
an overripe fuyu persimmon.
Nearly
anything can work as a pump
when
my heart takes it and screams “Whassssup?!”
I love the feeling of intimacy I get from this poem; it's like there are tight quarters and different energies or beings have taken up residence together and are sorting it out somehow, sometimes elegantly, sometimes via necessity. I love the third stanza especially, as there is a feeling a preciousness there, possibly where that feeling of intimacy I spoke of takes root in a solid way. You/we are in good company in the stirrings of the heart.
ReplyDeleteYes!
ReplyDeletethe cadence of the of poem as i read it out loud has the familiar satisfying impact that I get from reading some of your other poems...even though the theme is different in each one...there is this thread that is so cool to recognize as "Daniel's voice"
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