You can bounce pretty much anywhere from here,
callejero, by foot, mediatized in errance over the
balustrade patio brick cobblestone, where the
streets crisscross to 6 points that pixelate
in a pointillist blur out of place w/ the place name
the street-sign subtext’s, whose message is autism,
the manna of readymade’s that made you realize
you can bounce pretty much anywhere from here
A man with one leg leaning his stub on a tree stump
With half a half joint in his calloused yellow finger-tips
Collected popcans with a tree branch walking stick
Outside a fleamarket La Fayuca where you get galangal
And acacia koa in trade for Campeche axiote, dallying
In exile in a pointillist blur out of place with the x-pats,
Who manna each moment to a mediatized readymade,
So that nothing’s peppered with a discordant politics.
Quiet and integrated, the widow in the subway window, at
a standstill in a sort of drugged stasis in utero, carrying a
bag of curry leaves in a tweed satchel, whose evening was
sketched out in a routine plan, so it was that, leaning against
the green plastic metro-car interior wall panelling, quiet
and integrated, I was, an I referencing an I unendingly as I,
the two of us repeated patterns repeating a pattern.
When the subway stalled inside a side tunnel I put on
casiotone for the painfully alone and thought of home.
Questions and Answers
What poetic techniques did you try to use in this poem? How much attention do you pay to form and metre?
The technique of installation, how we see things in the city. The random irrelevant, closed into boxes, the spherology of advertisement and billboard total theatre, in the public spaces we live in. Metre is a street rhythm. The form is how you box it.