Friday, April 16, 2010

Poetry Blitz, Eight.


This post is the eighth installation of book ends'
National Poetry Month poetry blitz. Read about it here.


The Language of the Couple
[From the collection, The Boys I Borrow, originally published in Smartish Pace]

The tiniest anything in the sweet whole world
Is named new, just you two know bike is Pony,
Boy is Rug, van is Pookatron, husband, The Pook.
An adorable adoring dictionary feeds you two
You have your names for each other engraved
In your wedding rings, you have names for a chair
The bed, the way you lean back when he holds you.
You name the compost pile, you name the dogs
Over and over and over with new and ever sicklier
Goopier names. Oh Bowser, oh Cutie. Oh Pookadoo.

No more named things the sons protest, it’s just
Jake, stop, stop with The Bug, the June, Junie June Bug
Everything doesn’t have to Be
Named. They repeat.
Whatever.
The Less Said
The Better.

But it does. Everything does have to be named.
Naming’s the knitting love does to keep you
Snug, it’s the country you make
The place you live in. Its language is a two people
Fluency. The extra names gild a thing, a boy, a heart—
The more names the more loved. The more
Loved the more worth, the more you want it.

And so we continue
To summon the bicycle, the car, the garbage
Can, the boys, the hounds, the dishes, the heart
By the love names, the wings Words have when they are
Just yours and his, tongue of two of one of you.

L. Stacks

Photo: weheartit

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