That day | when the Man Dressed like a Forest…

That day | when the Man Dressed like a Forest
yodeled into the gash of a valley |
the rising echo no reply but

the semblance of his voice “which tragically
has neither eyes nor sense to register itself.”
First the ozone then the ocean

masticated Kim’s missile | the whole world
has gone ballistic. At risk of rousing ire |
in Kim’s mind he’s the revolutionary

flipping his rocket finger up the wall of sky |
toward the meddlers of the world’s affairs that want
him flayed & neutered “being a good boy— there there now.”

Instead of this it appears to me
more pertinent | “to go out & make friends
with a giraffe” | to set rags of tissue paper

alight & toss them into dark | written
on them | all our anxieties & phobias
quickly flaming into CO2 & vapour.

i must believe | only today
the 30th Nov 2017 | could be the day
on which these lines might be born | no other day

— while clouds range the blue spectrum
from over the sea | cramp grey | fixed about
the mountain | my mistakes accompanying.

Man: you unnerving parameter— “gob-shite!”
What would Dr. Z. Busner prescribe
for all these disembodied “gob-shites!”

with their idiolect scansion & negligence?
Google told me Topamax or Lamictal
but i would rather squeeze the juice

from the blue air
& feed it them.

14 thoughts on “That day | when the Man Dressed like a Forest…

  1. I agree that certain lines may emerge only on certain days. Those little twists, the leering sky and the odor of fish in the wind – such sensory input combined with momentus (or not) occurrences closes the circuit that sparks these lines.

    1. They really do. The right arrangement of objects & events at an exact time & in an area of space, which we can apprehend in lines only at that point. To assume it will reoccur is not an option, assuming such things is silly. Get it in lines while its warm impression is still there.

  2. A concise rendition of bipolar Mr Kim, the Rocket Man. Vaporized Buddhist prayer tissues give a perfect sense of his rockets desintegrating in mid-air while he hides like the ‘forest we can’t see for the trees’ in his camouflaged mobile launch centers and demonstrates what I like to call an utter and complete ‘lack of self awareness.’ I believe you are hitting your stride here with this form. The Buzner bit took a refined search in Wiki to glean. I’ve never watched that programme. But the sentiment goes over well. Of course all of this is my imperfect interpretation. You probably had a more distinct scenario in mind.

    1. That’s a good reading Pablo. Thanks for the encouragement too: i do feel like this form is helping me wring out a lot of stuff in me. The Z.(ack) Busner character is the protagonist of Will Self’s trilogy of novels Umbrella, Shark & Phone. A trilogy that will surely go down in history as a damning & brilliant critique of the current era as well as the past 100 years as the novels stretch from the horrors of the 1st WW up to the modern day. Busner is a psychologist & the protagonist of those novels. In the final book Phone he plays a Lear type sannyasin character, riddled with Alzheimer’s. They are very English novels & the reference is ridiculously oblique, but they have had a profound & earnest influence over my thinking & writing over the past 5-6 years. i essentially want to write a poetry like what Self does in prose. i think it can be effective.

  3. A powerful piece, Daniel. Particularly liked the tissue paper and the treatment of the condition, and as usual reading my own fears into it, as well as Kim J-u, the environmental catastrophe and those responsible.

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