Sunday, February 26, 2006

another poem (let me know what you think)

While the west whisks by, blurred and blushing,
we wait for what we can’t manufacture, the
moon, the tides,
norepinephrine, the watch.

Nobody worries over pie-tins and
porch-lights, broken keels, struggles with helmets;

we press greasy faces to flowing glass,
gasping like rheumatic fevers “why
no sparrow,     mother?
why still mistake?”

6 comments:

e. r. gallien said...

Heyhey. I love "we wait for what we can’t manufacture, the
moon, the tides,
norepinephrine, the watch." I don't know, I just think that part flows really well.

elizabeth

will said...

i like the norepinephrine because i don't know what it means & it immediately jolts me out of yr too pretty syntax.

w

e. r. gallien said...

yeah.. what the heck does norepinephrine mean? hmm i just looked it up

dictionary.com
nor·ep·i·neph·rine ( P ) Pronunciation Key (nôrp--nfrn)
n.
A substance, C8H11NO3, both a hormone and neurotransmitter, secreted by the adrenal medulla and the nerve endings of the sympathetic nervous system to cause vasoconstriction and increases in heart rate, blood pressure, and the sugar level of the blood. Also called noradrenaline.


hmmm. interesting.

S. Burgess said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
S. Burgess said...

Right. And norepinephrine is one of the neurotransmitters targeted by a certain group of antidepressants, certainly not for anyone with clinical anxiety problems, unless they really want the trip to the emergency room, unscheduled visit to their psychiatrist, and frantic calls to therapists at home.

amber said...

I loved "Nobody worries over pie-tins," and "struggles with helmets"

They both seem hilarious at first read, and in a way they still are. But when you really read it, also quite sad.