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Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Amnesia cricket
Superb phrase, that. Nice little poem, this. I rather like these stanzas:
Or maybe I'm just dumb, and trying to feel cool. Could that be it? Nah.
Update: The girl's on fire, she is. Check out "For invisible Zoo-mates" and "The Immoralist and The Peacock". I like the thought of a minor river snuggling.
Amnesia Cricket, Like when theThing is, you can like the way words come together, the music they create, the half-images they throw up, without even understanding what's being said. That's the case with me and Neha's poem.
memory of a ball thrown melts
into the brown of the pitch, or
the blood from a wounded knee
Drips down the naked calf. Half
a memory sitting rather still on
the stumps. Like a bail. Or a
sleeping insect when it was 8 PM.
Or maybe I'm just dumb, and trying to feel cool. Could that be it? Nah.
Update: The girl's on fire, she is. Check out "For invisible Zoo-mates" and "The Immoralist and The Peacock". I like the thought of a minor river snuggling.
