A Poem from Big Love Songs
This won’t be news to you
but it’s always worth noting, scribbling on a tablet,
those times when you’re snug
with the world, like an Avocado stone
inside the pale green oily flesh of the fruit
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I don’t know
whether to extend this idea into a neat
or twisted metaphor about life
and the tree with an egg-shaped fruit
with skin like an Armadillo’s shell, even though
I’ve never touched an Armadillo, being
just the first thing that came to me, and maybe
I’m starting at the beginning of the alphabet
are often just the start of something,
like that philosophical treatise you’re confident
will be the last word on Plato, Hegel and Schopenhauer.
That’s what it feels like when you begin writing,
thinking you have all the answers,
but maybe it’s like having the very best sex
after the very best conversation
when you ascend into each other
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand then it’s over
and the philosophical treatise didn’t even last a page
or get round to making a comparison
between loving life right now
and a fruit or animal starting with the letter ‘B’.
(I’m posting this poem, with permission from my friend and poet Vaughan Gunson, today, for B, on his birthday. -M. Elvy)
More about Big Love Songs:
Tuesday Poem is a collective of poets who share poetry on a weekly basis across borders and time zones. At the TP hub this week, you’ll find ‘Villon in Millerton’ by James Norcliffe, posted by Hub Editor Harvey Molloy, plus poems by the various TP collective members. Look down the left-hand sidebar and click on each one to see their weekly contributions.
For more Tuesday Poems, go here.