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poem
November 2009 
Revisiting the Bell Jar
Posted on May 8th, 2008
by 
Ron
Ron
My education lies there
on the table, a cooked
ham. I will eat it slowly.
Maybe over the course
of several days. Then
it will be gone. "Now
what?", I say to me.
The landscape I will
remember included a
ham and then it didn't.
Out there on the empty
plate lies the loss. But
then I feel sleighted
enough that I think
that memory belongs in
here. Where? In this pup
tent with my flashlight,
pop, and comic books.
Where? In this card
board box that once
held a refrigerator. Now
I have cut a window
into the blue green rest.
But all around me in the
dark I breathe my
memories, scooping and
packing them onto me-
Wet mud. When they dry
I will come out through the
side flap into the bright
colored world, squinting,
wearing the earth.
on the table, a cooked
ham. I will eat it slowly.
Maybe over the course
of several days. Then
it will be gone. "Now
what?", I say to me.
The landscape I will
remember included a
ham and then it didn't.
Out there on the empty
plate lies the loss. But
then I feel sleighted
enough that I think
that memory belongs in
here. Where? In this pup
tent with my flashlight,
pop, and comic books.
Where? In this card
board box that once
held a refrigerator. Now
I have cut a window
into the blue green rest.
But all around me in the
dark I breathe my
memories, scooping and
packing them onto me-
Wet mud. When they dry
I will come out through the
side flap into the bright
colored world, squinting,
wearing the earth.
Access: PublicTagged with: perception, memory
