Notes to a Young Poet 2.1
NOTES TO A YOUNG POET is a series that began in November 2012, inspired by Andrea Henchey’s poem of the same title, published in H_NGM_N #11. For the second volume of the series we’ve asked H_NGM_N chapbook authors to create their own Notes, which we will continue to collect here for you to hold and love and unzip and crawl through—
Notes to a Young Poet 2.1 is by David Bartone, author of SPRING LOGIC, lover of rupture (weather) and cows (slow things):
How a crisis of faith provides the occasion to commit again—
Owl-wrung neck: three hundred sixty degrees—
to a life of compassion, care, and grace.
The marginal horizon, I looked for trees left with leaves
I think what I mean is I sense in you I believe that
in you if you would drop the thoughts from your head
your heart would brass a scab a hope.
The advantage of being morphine sick is madsong.
The advantage of being housebound sick is petsong.
The advantage of being hellbound sick is the world
eats sloppy lapping and there’s the slick strong sense
of unity about it, thoughts rising like a gulf does
out of the mere word Orleans; of a storm, then lowering.
A man with his son’s hat on walking backwards up
to the shoreline sore loses his ease and likes to be near
the action as long as the action is quiet he thinks. He is the
advantage of being older, with his beautiful poems
and grateful returning readers. Mische seinen Jubel ein!
Lovers turn to you then, and hear you spout
killer painisms. My notes are driven. They spike
careful drone of years after, of tears. I am bony former gibbous
in advance of more night and this is dusk line, flower cart after
flower cart. The clear coat on good vision is stronger than varnish.
When I got to the cause of things
Tea in a large cup, puffing
I learned pleasure expresses itself in ‘and’
Add words, but let things be
