Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Magdalena Ball #3 - Persona Grata: Gold-plated whale of a dunce

Gold-plated whale of a dunce
                        after Murakami

That was when I saw him
crashed on the shore
there was no sunlight, only rain

the empty ice bucket was a pail
seashells, memory and dreams
overflowing its rim

later, to warm up
he gave me tea 
in a green thermos
whisked until foamy

like Proust’s madeleine
the sweet toasted bitterness
brings it on
that place, that beach
where I first saw

nothing ever truly changes


light works its way
slowly through becoming
sound waves

only in a novel could the world shift
so suddenly, so rationally
every age is this age another age
feeling that touch
fingers against the brain
coming in fast, too fast to stop it 
washing over and taking with it
another sandcastle.

4 comments:

  1. So neat so clear reflection, a meditation on writing a writer's writer - another sandcastle yet an exquisite sandcastle.
    I must read more Murakami.

    ReplyDelete
  2. So neat so clear reflection, a meditation on writing a writer's writer - another sandcastle yet an exquisite sandcastle.
    I must read more Murakami.

    ReplyDelete
  3. but I want to know which beach?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Waouh! this sixth stanza made my day! Just a comment: I wished I had this rythm

    only in a novel could the world shift so
    suddenly, so rationally
    every age is this age another
    age feeling that touch

    But i know almost nothing about Murakami and I might miss something ...

    ReplyDelete