Pete Spence
An Exercise in Style...for John Yau. 1.
the night posed sincerely
against an indifferent moon
stuttering like a handful of crows
or an obese wind nailed abruptly to a cloud
the night nailed the moon to a cloud
a handful of dogs howled a refrain
in a clearing the crows kept on stuttering
the wind abruptly left for the coast
against an indifferent coast
the moon was stuttering nails
the air becomes obese and slow
a river rows past singing loudly
a handful of moons sing an indifferent refrain
the river drowns in its own stuttering
a cloud is howling at the crows
in a clearing a storm was brewing
the river faded sincerely into the night
the storm was stuttering at the moon
a handful of nails might fix it
to a cloud hovering over the coast
An Exercise in Style...for John Yau. 2.
parts of my head simmer seeking
the whereabouts of the question
it is night and a star punctures
a cloud and rain begins falling
scattering like ivory on the ground
the question is tormented by its loss
night simmers like an ivory question
a cloud is tormented by a star
parts of my head are scattering
across the rain falling like pine
needles on rocky ground
does a question smell of pine
needles after rain? i am searching
everywhere for my head before
it is punctured by a star as the rain
sets in erasing the question
Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit. He is currently retired from work but not from any of the above.
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An Exercise in Style...for John Yau. 1.
the night posed sincerely
against an indifferent moon
stuttering like a handful of crows
or an obese wind nailed abruptly to a cloud
the night nailed the moon to a cloud
a handful of dogs howled a refrain
in a clearing the crows kept on stuttering
the wind abruptly left for the coast
against an indifferent coast
the moon was stuttering nails
the air becomes obese and slow
a river rows past singing loudly
a handful of moons sing an indifferent refrain
the river drowns in its own stuttering
a cloud is howling at the crows
in a clearing a storm was brewing
the river faded sincerely into the night
the storm was stuttering at the moon
a handful of nails might fix it
to a cloud hovering over the coast
An Exercise in Style...for John Yau. 2.
parts of my head simmer seeking
the whereabouts of the question
it is night and a star punctures
a cloud and rain begins falling
scattering like ivory on the ground
the question is tormented by its loss
night simmers like an ivory question
a cloud is tormented by a star
parts of my head are scattering
across the rain falling like pine
needles on rocky ground
does a question smell of pine
needles after rain? i am searching
everywhere for my head before
it is punctured by a star as the rain
sets in erasing the question
Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit. He is currently retired from work but not from any of the above.