Tuesday poem: Falling through

February 23, 2015

Falling through

Suddenly enough, all the computers yawned, quick gape of electric jaws, and we fell inside their crocodile bytes. Gusting through googles of guts, airy programmatic colons, we were curtly expelled onto other users’ chairs. I am now John le Carré, and he has swapped Cornwall for my Canberra. He pecks up the slim crumbs of poetry, that elegant confetti of wordy Gretels, tracing back the route to nowhere known at all. He likes the sun-dipped cockatoos, the nestling hills, and the pungent gums; their leaves such shy apostrophes, punctuation in all four seasons’ sentences.

You’d think I’d favour it, being famous. Heaving shelves of unborn books with my name on them groan out to a midwife agent, so patient and alert. But anonymity has its charms of liberation, and cover stories (as John would know) can thin and fade, and sometimes even fray. For England, Cornwall almost has a Summer, or at least a Summer’s spritely maiden Aunt, out for a jaunt, recalling dead youth spent in War. I have felt something approaching happiness, writing of Berlin or terror on the cliff edge of this little island, staring out to frown of dark, deep grey sea.

I want to go home now, to space and lancet light, but this white dumb screen stays obdurate; locked square surface, on which so many best-sellers have been keyed. Teases of postcards beckon in front of portal mouth; I tempt it with treats to open up, chew, and spit me back. It likes this latest tray of toffees so tightly wrapped in silver. Now it quivers; a glassy jellyfish on firm dry sand of desk. Now

P.S. Cottier


Prose poem? Flash fiction? Unclassifiable weirdness? You be the judge.

I read somewhere that John le Carré does not write on a computer, but we’ll call that detail poetic licence, hm?

I hear that there has been a dead drop of poems here. Press this link and find out.

6 Responses to “Tuesday poem: Falling through”

  1. Hi Penelope, a delightful journey from crocodile bytes to jellyfish and sand. The pungent gums, yes, and shy apostrophes. Know and adore. The concept reminds me somewhat of Cheever’s “The Enormous Radio.” But today’s crocodile listens intently, ingests and inculcates, and we’ll stay atop the gigabytes of guts only with metaphors, stories, a strong imagination like yours. – Zireaux

  2. pscottier said

    Thank you, Zireaux. I must admit to a certain glee at the idea of John le Carré in Canberra.

    I wonder how he would like it?

    Of course, to move from the books to the author is a dangerous presumption.

  3. Weirdness — I love it! Fun play with words and images here — and why not take a little poetic license with le Carré , and imagine him in Canberra while you’re at it? 🙂

  4. This is a lot of fun Penelope!… or should I say John 😉

  5. pscottier said

    (Says something clever in German, as JlC can speak that language.)

    I’m fooling no-one, am I?

    Cheers Helen.

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