Post by MoonyLuna on Jan 1, 2008 11:59:39 GMT -5
Without its noises and its smells the earth
revolves in cardboard on two squeaking bearings
that twist it in a reticle
of meridians and elemental pairings:
so land and sea, and north and south,
the compass and the monster's tentacle.
Thrumming like an engine with the news
of everyone fanned out to grasp its shape,
the globe is in and of its time,
was never intended to anticipate
the changes in our premises
or outlast the questions posed in its prime;
or has eternity blessed the globe,
and does the corona blazing on its limb
as if by worldwide light of noon
encircle the last, incontestable form,
quicken the breath of claustrophobes,
imply too much about the sun and moon?
In a city not on the globe they contrive
geodesic globes of glue and matchsticks
and a globe so big one can enter it
and comment whisperingly on the strange acoustics,
while hollering festival-goers give
globes of marzipan and chocolate
fallen from round piñatas in the bungo trees;
and stained glass globes in the eastern windows strain
colors consumed somewhere within them
like individual bouts of bliss and pain,
on rise-and-fall trajectories,
but never to be seen in the air amid them.
Copyright D. H. Tracy
revolves in cardboard on two squeaking bearings
that twist it in a reticle
of meridians and elemental pairings:
so land and sea, and north and south,
the compass and the monster's tentacle.
Thrumming like an engine with the news
of everyone fanned out to grasp its shape,
the globe is in and of its time,
was never intended to anticipate
the changes in our premises
or outlast the questions posed in its prime;
or has eternity blessed the globe,
and does the corona blazing on its limb
as if by worldwide light of noon
encircle the last, incontestable form,
quicken the breath of claustrophobes,
imply too much about the sun and moon?
In a city not on the globe they contrive
geodesic globes of glue and matchsticks
and a globe so big one can enter it
and comment whisperingly on the strange acoustics,
while hollering festival-goers give
globes of marzipan and chocolate
fallen from round piñatas in the bungo trees;
and stained glass globes in the eastern windows strain
colors consumed somewhere within them
like individual bouts of bliss and pain,
on rise-and-fall trajectories,
but never to be seen in the air amid them.
Copyright D. H. Tracy