3 poems
3 poems
by mark cunningham
Strangler Fig
When the spell check suggested “nonfat” for “Nosferatu,” I realized several types of revision were going on. Changing the spelling or pronunciation of a name when you turn it from a noun to an adjective–Shaw to Shavian, Chaucer to Chaucerian–is an act of power. Taki 183, Mousey 89: the first graffiti tags have evolved into email addresses.
Sourwood Tree
Researches have found that if you just sit and imagine you’re exercising, your body reacts and you get some physical benefit: the leaves of the sun turn even greener against the slate of the overcast horizon. This is an example of static. That the man before me didn’t flush the urinal tells about his attention to detail. As in niggling inconsequentials. As in other people. Come on. Even satellites notice the color of my eyes.
Basalt
A beam of sunlight not refracted by a crystal also makes a display. I’ve never been able to spell “catastrophism” without looking it up, so I consider myself an optimist. My goal: experience and reliable shortcuts to it. I’d like to make a porn film staring breeder reactors.
Nifty narcotic ditty! It definetly stimulated my interest and left me cold turkey wanting more. “3 poems” surprisingly works together as one exhibiting wry perceptive ‘street observations’ coupling with their scientific counterparts.
The titles set up the experiment…’strangler fig’, ‘sourwood tree’, and ‘basalt’. Strangler figs begin as seeds atop a host plant and wrap around this plant in its growth cycle in an intense competition for light while at the same time growing upward above the canopy. Sourwood trees are beautiful ornamental trees suitable for gardens and known for their colorful fall leaves and for being slow-growing (quite the contrast to the strangler fig). Then we have something more off the beaten path…basalt, a fine-grained (due to rapid cooling of lava)volcanic rock commonly gray or black and also hard.
The poems after these titles ultimately complement/reflect/correspond and point at some common link in nature and human behavior (or perception/thought).
I especially liked the ending: “I’d like to make a porn film starring breeder reactors.” Keen play on words which also stirs up so much connontative meaning, Mr. Cunningham! So, what’s a breeder reactor? Def. “…is a nuclear reactor that consumes fissile and fertile material at the same time as it creates new fissile material.” ‘Hubba-hubba!’
Travis–I’ll be damned if I can find a submission form on the website, so I’m trying this. The same thing happened to me last time (slow learner), and I sent my pieces through regular email, and that finally worked out, but only after a few back-and-forth emails asking if you’d ever received the poems–and it turns out you hadn’t the first time around. At any rate, I’m sending two short pieces, since they seem to go well together. The first one ends with a statement by Francis Bacon, which is why his name is in parenthesis. The bit about hearing at the end of the second [specimen] is true. Both pieces are titled “[specimen]” with the brackets as part of the title. Two of the pieces in my previous sumbission (“Strangler Fig” and “Sourwood Tree,” used Jan. 16, 2008), are going to be in _71 Leaves_ which BlazeVox is doing as an ebook–revised, but they started at Haggard and Halloo and I’m including you in the acknowledgment page. Thanks for considering this new pair. If this isn’t the right way to submit, have mercy on the confused and tip me off on the right way. My email is mcunningham777@yahoo.com.
Sincerely,
Mark Cunningham
[specimen]
I have two responses to sound, words and earwax. I always save the pizza coupons, but I haven’t had a pizza in years. I love the world, but “there’s something there” is still a terrifying statement. My porn collection will answer any other questions. All the beautiful colors of the mouth (Francis Bacon).
[specimen]
There’s the idea of a tree in my head but in the reflection of my head there’s a real tree. I was supposed to read out loud Artaud’s sentence “What a voluntary breathing brings about is a spontaneous reappearance of life,” but I got on stage, took a deep breath, and forgot my line. The appendix is a numb tongue. The tongue is a fine ear: shut your mouth and you can’t hear as well.