Skip to main content

From "thirsty poems"

molo

on the molo at night, the swans will not respond.
the ramshackle fountain can not break its bonds.
the distance behind the sea, it tucked in like a sheet.
a cool white building shuns the company of the rest.
the idle shopper is caught out! and so must needs stay on.
see, the empty bars are full of golden pipes, leaking steam.
history hobbles on by with just the briefest of passing nods.
the molo by night is just as white as it is by day.
“don't say that!” the one says to the other, “just don’t...”
in the enchanted fountain, the gurgling gargoyles giggle.
this far north it can never be truly dark it seems.
a bar of inviolable sulphur cuts across the clouds.

access is achieved by the illegal band as a fish stirs below.
I can only guess at what is occurring beneath the boards.
seven sylvan swans are spiralling now in a malignant way.
the meeting in the town hall tower rages on, the subclause questioned.
“I don't even care what you meant,” it goes on, “just don’t say it.”
in the fountain bathes the bird, and the bird is god.
alone beneath the blueberry bushes at least...at last!
out at sea the massive nascent shape already is degraded.
the crowd gather with their torches, not yet lit.
in the white building (with the blue roof) they are dancing.
the entrance, though appealing, is descriptively a cul-de-sac.
on the in land every one is out.
the memory hotel is full but the doors, from the outside, are locked.
the demon is released by an accidental pattern in the dance.

the ragged rascal smoothes out upon the surprising powder sands.
screams from the memory hotel are eagerly recorded.
“just—I didn’t say that or anything—just.” it never stops
kashubia, kashubia, country of a thousand fishful lakes.
did I not mention the shipyards throwing up shapes and sparking?
the swans attend a meeting with their briefcases in their beaks.
the fountains’ overflow flows over the marauders, some are drowned.
pity the pitiful; hate the hateful; love the loveable.
the molo’s reach bisects this evening’s dashboard.
the semen of the demon on the running rail is gleamin’.
murder on the molo and the clues are all too clear.
watching the moon dissolve in light to shape the peninsular cloud.
the white building, don't you see it? the white building!
the massive mass floats nearer the pier.
the memory hotel gets forgotten and, neglected, starts to fall.

the drop of the molo props is not even where it stops.
the lover takes another and is beaten by my brother.
the devil is not on any level as he incarnates purest evil.
the swans will carry on though from their eyes we see it is no fun.
the hotel’s fall in a vicious squall in fact casts no pall.
in the fountain bowl there is a hole whose existence is foul.
the bandits are stranded, rounded up then branded.
the corrupted mass begins now to pass onto the relief of the grass.
the town gathers round and starts to burn the molo down.
the murder has been solved and, all involved, absolved.
golden fish on a carved silver dish are served with a swish.
space of the white building filled in by the white building.
the journeying sky is held up by an inhuman cry,
“look, I don’t care, just” don't say “that. the quarrel never” ends.

notes:
molo is polish for pier and the particular pier that features in this piece is rumoured to be the largest unsupported wooden structure of its kind in europe. it is situated in the north of the country in the faded grandeur of the old resort town of sopot. the details included in this piece all exist in some shape or form in sopot or its environs. “molo” is not pronounced to rhyme with “polo”, but rather with each ‘o’ pronounced as in “not”.
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

John Ashbery, Some Trees

John Ashbery, Some Trees
(New York: Corinth Books, 1970)
Originally published (New York: 1956)


Close Readings and annotations of every poem in the collection March-April 1997 in preparation for In the Process of Poetry: The New York School and the Avant-Garde (Bucknell UP, 2001) currently in the process of complete update (2013)


"Two Scenes," 9

This is a poem about duality so in this sense the title actually refers to what the poem is ‘about’. John Shoptaw notes, for example, the phonic mirroring of the poem which he sees as an element later phased out as is the “linear introversion” to be found here. Thus we have the following phonic recurrences: “we see us as we”; “Destiny...destiny”; “News...noise”; “...hair/Air”; “-y” and rhymes of section 2; and “...old man/...paint cans”.


This simple but subtle semiotic device is then developed structurally as well, as the title hints. So ‘scene’ 2 reflects back internally onto ‘scene’ 1. “Machinery” recalls the train as does the canal; g…

John Ashbery, Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror

John Ashbery, Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror
(Manchester: Carcanet, 1977)
First Published (New York: Viking, 1975)

Close Readings and annotations of every poem in the collection March-April 1997 in preparation for In the Process of Poetry: The New York School and the Avant-Garde (Bucknell UP, 2001)


Introduction:

· Shoptaw notes that this return to poetry is dominated by images of waiting, that narrative (especially fairy-tale) returns, as do the musically based titles, there are no prose poems and no fixed forms such as sonnets of pantoums, most are free verse paragraphs, also bring forward a new American speech, more direct and inclusive.



“As One Put Drunk into a Packet-Boat”, 1-2

· Shoptaw notes this was the original title for the collection, marking a self-consciously Romantic return to poetry, recording the thoughts of “I” from afternoon to night, just outside a childhood country home. Has a pastoral crisis narrative in that a summer storm gathers but passes leaving the poet relieved i…

The Grenfell Tower Murders

The 72 victims of Grenfell Tower Fire were murdered, victims of the violence of neglect.  Here is the proof.
A year ago, a fire started on the fourth floor of Grenfell Tower, due to a faulty appliance.  The fire spread quickly up the side of the building because the tower had been refurbished in 2016.  Flammable cladding had been added to the exterior building as part of an £8 million refit which appears to have primarily made the tower more cosmetically pleasing.  The money was not spent on improving fire safety within the building, it would appear, a cause for concern for residents’ groups for years. The initial cladding that was to be used is not illegal in the UK but its use is restricted in other countries.  To save costs a cheaper version was eventually attached to the building, a more flammable version. 
Once the fire caught, residents were advised to stay in their flats.  In 99% of all cases this is the best advice, because flats are designed to be “fire resistant boxes” surr…