Perennial Measure: As A Househusband Brings a Weekend Breakfast-In-Bed Tray to His Pooped-out Working Wife, Not Yet Disturbed by Their 8-Year-Old Daughter Still With Her Dreams ‘Bout the Zoo

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

As A Househusband Brings a Weekend Breakfast-In-Bed Tray to His Pooped-out Working Wife, Not Yet Disturbed by Their 8-Year-Old Daughter Still With Her Dreams ‘Bout the Zoo

Scintillating frying consonance was here for you, my love.

As are butter now on toast, pink pomelo juice, instant coffee.

I have not bathed yet in the Tuscan tan of your chamber, love,

Nor have I yet found you. Nor the dryer, nor our petting zoo.

Did you hear her door open, floor watchfully creaking? She

Won’t smell semen, you won’t be sore or cry for heaven, mere

Scintillating assonance of words, love, is here for thee. And

Me. But let’s exclude me in the picture’s focus. Allure may be

The name of the game I’ll be playing onwards, but it won’t be

A lame dissonant perturbance encumbered with noisy, biting

Crustaceans. I may not have bathed yet for the danger of our

Daughter’s waking up, love, and I may now only be thinking

Of you, but I’ll soon take care of the laundry in the dryer, the

Cat/dog food in our zoo. Then wake Mia, our current focus.

No comments:

Post a Comment

About "Perennial Measure," the first blogged poetry volume on this site:

On the seventh day in the writing of this collection, or perhaps already subconsciously during the making of that first poem, it became clear that this series, Perennial Measure (the volume), shall be about the practice of poetry and art. Having laid that assumption down, trying to follow that course, however, I saw that I was able to move later to the creation of pieces on various other themes, as if I was trying to present to my reader those various themes and issues that confront a poet in his life and everyday world, qua poet. But, so as not to veer too far away from my central theme, the series would interrupt that straying again to make me go back to pieces strictly on poetry or art. And that push and pull from the central theme went on to the end of the volume project (which targeted 56 pieces or 56 printed book pages worth). So, approach this collection thus, then, should it please you, and consider reading the last poem, "Perennial Failure," against the first one, "Perennial Measure." Otherwise, you can just approach the section or volume or book how you would rather, as maybe you should. Here is Perennial Measure, the blogged poetry book within this eponymously titled Perennial Measure blogged literary creations site.