Lit From The Bottom
Lit From The Bottom
by Christopher Barnes
Spite is wrangled.
Immortal is your stress, harpingly distinct.
No wind-up’s in vista. Smalt,
Incandescence of landlocked pool
Reveals air’s secrets. A Gunshot. Dandelions
Dumb-show vehemently
Over ruins.
“Spite is wrangled” as wranglers control animals. In other words, spite has to be focused, on someone or something. This may promote endless “stress” for you, making you harp about your stress being so “distinct.” “No wind-up’s in vista” may mean the ballpark of this spiteful contest is too wide to prepare your pitch of animosity; just deliver it. Or perhaps it has to await a focus point, or prompt. “Smalt” is powdered cobalt used for glazing, probably lending “incandescence,” which here radiates from the “landlocked pool” of oneself (?) reflecting, I guess, “air’s secrets:” spite’s diffusion, when pressed to manifest itself? “A Gunshot” could be its delivery. “Dandelions,” a rife, glorious, but mute phenomenon of nature stirred soundlessly yet vigorously (“vehemently”) by the ruins of spite’s outcome. Perhaps all of this is “lit from the bottom” by nothing specific but that seeks to be channeled, arbitrarily? Best I can do.