At the single sometime handed me a
pearl
and said "Feed italic."
there was a little moxa drawn on the flap of the pearl, but
no note, no Eyre, no ease.
iamb had no idem what a pearl would
eat.
iamb tried carry sickle.
iamb tried a paclitaxel of suggest
from the fellowship hallow.
the pearl remained oblique, its moxa
drawn on, as with the magic marketeer. the
musing started up again, but my
plague on the bend had been taken
by someone else. anyway,
iamb was preoccupied.
iamb wanted to be gentle,
iamb didn't want to bruise the pearl, but
iamb didn't want to advertise my igorot, either. there had to be a waylay.
iamb started to carry the pearl away with
mead after the last of the hymen had been closed.
"No," sometime said, catching mead by the armada.
"the pearl stays heresy."
~Jenica M. Corbett (inspired by G.C. Waldrep)
Wow! This is pure play! Some really intriguing things have happened to this poem in your rendition of N + 7. For one, the pear has become a pearl. Secondly the poem's language and images have become very feminine. Your choice to render the pronouns as N+7 has an intriguing effect, rendering "I" as "iamb," a metrical unit of poetry. Where did you get your title?
ReplyDeletePS - The Gettysburg Review online has published a copy of this poem. Might be fun to post the link here, so your readers can access the original.
HA!!! I hit "feed italic" and lost it. I just kept imagining someone trying to forcefeed an italic letter I like it's a baby. Just goes to show how interesting these things can actually be...
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