Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Blurry

Margaret Avison’s poetry, which catches us unawares sometimes through one of its distinctive notes – the use of dialogue and rhetorical (or not so rhetorical) questions as a means to break up and change a poem’s rhythm - also insinuates itself in our conscience in wreaths of absurd dreams.

From the shifting of gears through question marks in From Now-On?

"For him, is this disruption?
"An end and no beginning"
now his life's caption?
Ice on bright puddles, birds all singing
to mock the nothingness suction,
the spiritless direction,
his flattened pinions?"

used to snare the reader into a poetic ending that delivers an annihilating blow:

"And this "how many" is also,
for me, disruption."

we are led to discover a different sort of poetic creature in End of Day or I as a Blurry.

Here’s the poem’s beginning:

"I as a blurry groundhog bundling home
find autumn storeyed:"

And, as the burrow of an almost wintry season is uncovered, we find ourselves indoors:

“Indoors promises
such creatureliness as disinhabits
a cold layered beauty
flowing out there.”


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