Jody's Notes
Oddly enough, this is one of those poems where I'm adopting another voice. I'm claustrophobic, I really am. I need big, I need spacious. Especially on planes and buses. Especially when I'm around people. (It's really nice when people are a certain distance away.)
But there are others who are different: who really like up-close, with anyone, nearly enough. Who don't even like air that much--unless it's clearly been recently used. I understand them. In a way I mean. In a way that enables me to write a poem from their point of view.
(Aesthetic reactions, have you notice this? are built out of such strange termpermental factors.)
Perhaps freedom is overrated.
Think of thecagedquark
(flavoring everything). So what
if the sky noons in public,
casts blue regularly like a smothering marinade?
I want little: the canned spirit,
the box of film (potentially grotto),
the mnemonic kiss of microdot
(pebble landscape for the myopic). Heaven
in a glance.
© 2008 Jody Azzouni