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by kvennarad

The poet is a liar who, by lying, tells the big truth,
which is so much better than the other way round.
You have walls on which you can hang ten pictures
of the sea. There are clocks that chime ten minutes
early. If dogs could talk, they would tell us a lot more
about scents that we don’t know, but we would all be
hard pressed to understand what they were saying,

but then we don’t have experts to tell us what to
think, just to question how we think. If that poet
told you that an apple, a certain apple, was blue,
would you believe her? “I am a rich woman, yes a
truly rich woman, because I measure my wealth
in blue apples!” Another poet sits in a room where

there is a clock ticking, and answers a question
about time without looking at it, or rather he asks
a supplementary question. The poet/liar sits in a
café, over coffee, with two friends, each of discrete
ethnicity an ocean apart at least, and they discuss
what makes each of them special; in doing so they
realise some common recipes, how to bake apples,

but different definitions of blueness. Some dogs are
blue, and that’s a fact. That figure weeping by the
roadside might be a demon. Poems about persimmons
are invariably Japanese, those that mention cicadas
are American, but the debate about whether music
or mathematics is the universal language continues

even though it impossible that a number or a musical
note can lie. Are you reading a poem or a lie? Read
aloud with an American voice and award yourself an
apple. If a sink hole opened in your street, and you
and all your neighbours came and looked down it, your
thoughts may stray to childhood because of a scent

that has been breezed in, rather than stay on the depth
and darkness of the hole. The poet says it’s raining
outside and you believe her. Let’s for a moment make
fragments out of our thoughts; if you want to know the
time, ask neither a dog nor a demon, but still ignore
the clock. Rain makes apples look as though they weep.

__________

jupiterThe counterlyricwise advance continues ©Marie Marshall

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