poem || Jeff Harrison

Surely, You Shall Hear from Seventy-five more Sainte-Beuves

a well well
well to all,
especially
those who
crouched
behind
tiers of horse hair -
(remind me to finally
write my poem "The
77 Books of Hair", where
books of hair, 77 in #, are
bales of hair like hay bales)
over 3/4ths of all possible (well,
all plausible) Charles Augustin
Sainte-Beuves in the shapes of
penalty flags, overtures, ospreys,
billiard tables, Wormsworks,
all shedding the savor
of grave-laborers'
sunlight shuffle,
mischief, "&", hence,
all in the lake, I mean
all behind those tiers,
could partake
of that equine cake
especially
those who're
crouched
behind
whistles,
pages, I
mean, ok,
pages AND
whistles
and the
pages (of
wands, cups,
swords, and
pentacles)
motion
wind (to rain
our fences) from
(and to rain our
saddles) the
song stories,
and dirt meat...
("of your Virginia,
I really wanted
to meet her,
but the price
of dirt went up
& it hasn't got
any cheap-er")
... breaths, block-
tossing, quakes of
light, those whistles
and pages, and O
my ungainly horse! will
certainly follow, quiet, quiet, horse,
keep my visit cut in the neck,
horse, with soaked saddle, O here's

one Sainte-Beuve:

ought the silence of the horse's
steps be silent? when a hot answer
would surely buy respect?

one more Sainte-Beuve (the one
who spoke of the price of dirt):

explain now your voice, horse,
an opportunity known is bought

today rain is seen as spent rhythm
its ways comfort the ma'am system
(an opportunity known is spent, already)

look, the horse enjoys that the Poem
Committee is miserable,

miserable
as
un-
sp-
ent
rain