Friday, November 9, 2012

Filling in


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?!”

3 comments:

  1. 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.

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  2. the 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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