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Location: Aotearoa, New Zealand

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Dean Young poem: He Said Turn Here

He Said Turn Here

and then Tony showed us the lake
where he had thrown some of his sadness last summer
and it had dissolved like powder
so he thought maybe the lake could take
some of the radiant, aluminum kind
he had been making lately.
And it did.
It was a perfect lake,
none of the paint had chipped off,
no bolts showing, the arms that Dante
and Virgil would have to hack through
not even breaking the surface.
Mumbling Italian to itself,
it had climbed down two wooden stairs
back to the beach now that the rains were done.
How strange to be water so close to the ocean
yet the only other water you get to talk to
comes from the sky. Maybe this is why
it seems so willing to take on
Tony's sadness which sometimes corrodes
his friends, which is really
many different sadnesses, smaller
and smaller, surrounded by more
and more space, each a world and
at its core an engine like a bee
inside a lily, like buzzing inside
the bee. It seems like nothing
could change its color although
we couldn't tell what color it was,
it kept changing. In the summer,
Tony says he comes down early each day
and there's no one around so the lake
barely says a thing when he dives in
and once when his kitchen was on fire in Maine
and he was asleep, the lake came and bit his hand,
trying to drag him to safety
and some nights in New Mexico,
he can hear it howling,
searching for him in the desert
so we're glad Tony has this lake
and we promise to come back in August
and swim with him across,
maybe even race.

Dean Young

Thanks to Dora Malech for introducing me to Dean's writing at this year's Iowa Workshop up at the IIML. She's going to be running the MA course in 2007 while Bill Manhire takes a break from teaching. We are literally going to be at the airport to welcome her back into the country.



Anonymous Anonymous said...

YAY! Soon you'll be in the land of orcs and we'll be having a big reunion! We should go for a manicure. I've never had one before but it might be nice to have good looking fingernails. You never know when people will look at your fingernails and judge you by your little bits of ripped skin and uneven clipping.
Lovely poem by the way. I mean btw (or is it supposed to be in CAPS?). So yeah see you tomorrow!!!

Fri Oct 20, 03:46:00 PM  
Blogger MaramaK said...

Um so didn't mean to do that annonymously and also realised 'lovely' not really appropriate description of poem. Could go on and be really wanky and analytical to describe poem but in the end all I want to say is that I liked it. Almost as visually stimulating as David Brent's "let me sheath my sword in your lake".


Am having trouble logging in. Obviously I put in a wrong letter or something in my password so will be miracle if this actually gets posted. Blimmin heck

Fri Oct 20, 03:54:00 PM  

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