Saturday, June 11, 2011

Let's not get too literal about it, but...

...here is the poem from Wonderbender inspired by this X-Files episode Quagmire....

A Ptarmigan

These two—they have such a pale understanding
of each other—not pale in a washed-out way but pale
as in understated, fine, subtle,
like a pale wine-stain that becomes part of the fabric's design
and would be missed if removed. And here they are,
two people on a very small island (the size, let's say,
of a 1950's convertible), in the dark, in the fog,
with the silken waters lapping
all around, and they are not afraid
exactly, just weary. They've brought with them, as always,
flashlights; one even has a lantern. They have
jackets, waterproof ones, and they have
conversation of an interesting type and they have bright,
bright eyes
in the darkness. They do not touch, for they do not
know each other well, but you can tell they will touch
at some undesignated future point, or would touch
if circumstances demanded it—would touch in a minute—
to save themselves, say, if the water rose too high,
or to huddle together if the wind became too fierce,
or the rain. Or they would touch if the conversation,
now at another interesting juncture—clever, you might say,
although never sarcastic—turned to reveal that one of them
suffered pain. What are they saying? In the cool drift
of the water and the night, delicate words can be heard
on the brine-scented air. One mentions a book, the other pretends
to have read it, but knows enough about it in fact
to be able to ask a fair question. This goes on for some time
and they are growing somewhat cold
and wearier, and although they do not like to admit it,
a little afraid. A ptarmigan dips down through the fog
to look at them, yet they do not kiss. The expressions
on their faces are kind, if puzzled, if bemused. What they do
not know is that the land is just nearby
beyond where the fog drops off and their line of vision
dissolves. They can hear the frogs on shore
beguiling their mates in deep voices,
yet their weariness stops them from believing
they could stretch out their four hands and touch them.

(for Mulder and Scully)

I Don't Pray

I Don't Pray

let me in, let me out

Reading -- March 1