A)
I am a boat.
And by that I do not mean
I am boatlike
or participate vaguely
in some conception of boatness. B)
Bricks, bridges.
Wind, water.
And a turquoise boat.
C)
And there, the boat.
The little boat
not blue, not green,
not on water.
Nothing boatlike except
in some poked-through essence.
D)
The unwaterlogged little boat.
Little landlocked spine.
Alas, its poor bleached shell.
Some cotton nests not in the chest
but in the air
above the black gantries to the southwest.
Over there is a pink view.
E)
The pink cup near the sink
has had no lips on it.
From the window
the white buildings buzz.
Oh, there's the pink view.
And then you said, "I smell oysters."
F)
The Titanic
is completely boatlike
and possesses its boatness even now.
It sails everywhere, without water.
It floats because it sank.
G)
Parentheses are boatlike.
But not blue, not green.
Here is a voice. It exclaims
"Oh take me pink views
Take me to your mouth
like a cup, kiss
my punctured turquoise hull.
I am a boat.
I am a boat.
Oh pink view, I am a boat."
|