'the poet speaks to himself (and the reader too)', and Other Poems, by Shane Ingan
the poet speaks to himself
(and the reader too)
beautiful
dead tree
blossoming
all up and down
its trunk
great discs
of fungi
supple, firm
striped brown
& white
nothing complex
strange neither
you fool
life & death
death & life
(so it is
with you)
child's play
the game was
simple: metal
was safe.
we climbed along
the chainlink fence
leapt from there
to tetherball pole
avoiding the stones
of the playground.
from concrete ledge
of tetherball pole
to jungle gym
our feet may have touched the stones
just a little.
jungle gym to monkey bars
(a cheating skip or two)
across to
rusty merry-go-round
creaking beneath our weight.
clinging to the bars
we
laughed
we
breathed heavily
we
looked out across the vast
yawning expanse
of pebbles out toward
the equipment.
you looked at me.
i looked at you.
the merry-go-round
spun slowly.
you took your ring
from your finger
(was it real metal?
i asked) of course
you said. if together
we hold it like this
we can make it
across.
*
as an adult
if you choose to play such games
it would be reasonable
to expect to accrue
a heavy burden
of debt.
the cue
question me not, friend
as to this knowledge
there is no reason
to discuss
just exactly what machiavelli was up to
in 1503
no sense in this feeling
the need to dig deeper
concerning the nature
of mirror neurons
their relevance to us now and theoretical function
in the life of early man
i am a poor creature
i do not know
what i do not know
it is an open question
whether i know
what i would claim to know
so still your tongue, friend
set down your beer
it's your shot
here's the cue:
focus now
you're solids
Shane Ingan is from Indiana and lives in Detroit. He occupies no position of distinction whatsoever and is working on a big book of poetry about vanity.
‘Jupiter & Antiope’ by Dan Kestler (2018)