Sunday, March 21, 2010
Field Notes for Niedecker
Something keeps and we ingress.
You have a very little poem. You arrange yard boats like hollow fossils.
This is natural for a peninsula.
Don’t let it come to this, an ego and a trailer. Pick up your pencil and erase all the Is.
If you were to speak the truth: a white mouse has prepared the forest for its dying.
Lake Koshkonong is natural for a peninsula.
Her letter states: ‘“A woman in Fort threw herself into the river off the bridge
one night last week. ‘She must have been insane,’ they said—you can’t help
but feel it must have been a lucid moment among patches of ice.”’
The moon is set to blink, to survey the natural peninsula.
We understand immediately. There was a war.
Her letter states: “Only two or three things make the world…” This much you know.
The sora rail darts inward and subjective.
(Caroline Morrell's writing has appeared in Black Clock, Conjunctions, and Court Green, as well as numerous other publications. She is a recipient of the Ohio Arts Council Individual Artist Fellowship for Poetry; Devine Fellowship for Creative Writing; and the Cora Owlett Latzer Award from The Academy of American Poets.)