Jonathan Moya reads Snelling and Seeing the Brightness of the World
I smell the freshness of uncut spruce un-trampled snow in the whiteness all around me. The hard freeze has piled high the world. I dare not crush it less it reek of cat piss and gasoline. Have I gotten too close or too far? The world is too fragile to be h e l d. Soaked in the river its green never truly turns b l a c k. Yet holding it and having it again and again in thought, in memory, e r o d e s all to (invisibility) as if every feather, bone, twig became ( ).
Note: The invisible bright words in the final parentheses are: too bright to see.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ- For those few who wanted to know what a more serious version would look like, here it is:
I smell the freshness of uncut spruce, trampled snow in the whiteness all around me.
The hard freeze has piled high the world.
I dare not crush it less it reek of cat piss and gasoline.
Have I gotten too close or too far?
The world is too fragile to be held.
Soaked in the river its green never truly turns black
Yet holding it and having it again and again in thought, in memory, erodes all to (invisibility),
as if every feather, bone, twig,
became (too bright to see).
Let me know which version of this poem you prefer in the comment section. Is it better serious or both serious/parody?
The first version is the better of the two. The second version is a dumbing down and not for you. I wish you would place this somewhere. It doesn’t need anything
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