Thursday, July 21, 2011

Loaves & Fishes

Abacus to zygote: this is just what
The god has ordered. Feed the multitude
On infinite combinations from a rude
Inception. C begins with Cookie, not
A tiddly crowd, made crummy with the bread
Recently risen. Read what we have read,

And you can bake your own. A dictionary
Portends all saints every witness each,
Erects more ladders than a man can carry,
And will not learn. We accidentally teach.
Mud is in our middle, and right before,
Mattress, the word that you were looking for.

I have one in my pocket, glad and good
Together. What I've spelled, I've understood.

2 comments:

Shaista said...

Love this piece. It feels familiar, as though the poet is inviting us to tea, sharing baking and making crummy with bread recently risen...
Love the word 'Together'... potent in it's simplicity.

Richard Epstein said...

Thanks, I think. Your reading reminds me of Jarrell's anecdote about trying to teach Frost's "Design":

For sweet-sour, smiling awfulness snow-drop spider looks unsurpassable, until we come to the almost obscenely horrible (even the mouth-gestures are utilized) a flower like froth; this always used to seem to me the case of the absolutely inescapable effect, until a student of mine said that you could tell how beautiful the flower was because the poet compared it to froth; when I said to her, "But—but—but what does froth remind, you of?" looking desperately into her blue eyes, she replied: "Fudge. It reminds me of making fudge."