September 23, 2007

How is it possible, that we have never done this thing before tonight.
How in all these years of autumn pressing leaves to swirl in gutters,
flapping orange, curling dry and blowing high around our forreds,
how is it only now that we have come to carry bags, contents made
from lists of gathered words. We always said we’d buy the book,
and then we did, and now we’re here. And my kitchen
is high above the city, spinning yellow in its turret and you are reading:
simmer slowly, chopping fine, remove from oven. And I am feeling
a fluttering of the solar plexus. With no one touching I am feeling
the small narrowing of lower back, hands brushing, hairs lifting,
and our kitchen has super nova-ed in the dark. Our clean cups,
our hot water, your body like a thing of fire and this thing-
I don’t know how it’s caught my breath. I don’t know how
it’s made me gasp, or how it’s pinned itself against our shoulders,
how it’s in the steam, how it’s written on the glass.
I don’t know how, this thing we’ve made
has lifted up the sky.

5 Responses to “Soup”

  1. Walden said

    Wow, nice descriptions and images. I don’t get what’s inside the bag, those “lists of gathered words”. I guess you mean the book you are talking about afterwards but the wording is a little awkward I think. In the line “And my kitchen is high above the city, spinning like a yellow star” I am not sure that the simile is apt. The ending is amazing, orgasmic even. I love the line “I don’t know how this thing we’ve made has lifted up the sky”, that is fine work right there. Keep writing!

    I have linked you from my blog because I can tell you are a real poet.

    This revision is better than the one below…

  2. Clay Lowe said

    Hi Lydia,

    I enjoyed this poem in the unrhymed tercet version. I felt it read better and pushed the pace faster, like the quickening of the heart beat in the presence of someone whom you are in love with.


  3. Thanks. It’s actually just about making a meal together-and how under certain circumstances that can be an oddly emotional experience. I think I agree with your point about some of the sections being a bit clumsy. Also think it needs another title!The poem makes the titles point-but the title sets up too many expectations and just sounds a bit mills and boon! Thanks for reading again,


  4. Hey Clay, just seen your post-popped up while I was replying to the one before. Thanks, nice to see you around again.

  5. That’s beautiful there.
    I too like the terceted (is that a word?) version.
    It caught my eye more.

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