Here are some poems, composed by a puppet,

some are my own and some of them not.

You can like one, or quite like them all,

or simply not like them a hell of a lot.


x



Tuesday 17 January 2012

Poem by Penelope Shuttle

A poem stays awake long after midnight
talking you from room to room

does not care that walls have ears
las parades oyen

A poem prefers tin to silver,
silver to gold,
gold to platinum

Every year
a poem tosses a young woman from the cliffs
to the rocky sea below

A poem accidentally sends the entire letter f
off to Florence

but keeps the letter t
in a matchbox, like a tiny contraband tortoise

Sometimes
a poem is your only daughter

busy and happy in the world,
China or Spain
abundancia de riqueza

Like the partial Angel Gabriel
in Santa Sophia
a poem is half-gold, half-invisible

A poem will do things in England
she'll never do in France

It will take more than ten thousand lakes
for which minnesota is famous
to drown a poem

The poem pauses now and then
to look at nothing-much-in-particular

A poem likes scraping and burnishing
the prepared surface of the etching copper,

is frequently found note-taking copiously
from The Fantastic Historia Animalium of the Rain

A poem makes herself as tiny as a waterbear
or a tardygrade,
a mite able to survive freezing, boiling,

able to go into suspended animation
for one hundred years, if need be

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