Polaroid Poems by justin spring - HTML preview

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THE POET TAKES ON THE HEAVY THINKERS

WITH BOTH FISTS

 

 

Consider the wife in Oliver Sacks

who saw life in snapshots, with gaps

in between. Who always felt giddy

when Harry came home.  Like a

cinema housewife, she'd say to herself,

seeing him first at the foot of the walk,

then in a close up, murmuring, Alice,

before he flicked by to flop

on the couch and click

through the channels.

                                                               This,

she reported, was something she lived with.

But then there were times the snaps

were quite different: she'd see Harry first

at the foot of the walk, then in a close up,

murmuring Alice, then in the next shot,

back on the walk, still rushing towards her,

lips pursed to kiss her as though he had not.