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This page has audio. Click titles then listen.
The distances de-
fined. & by default
the spaces in
between. Balanced
relationships. Harmonic
intervals. Places
to put the fingers.
Some things taught,
something less
learnt. Practice makes.
Not perfect but im-
parts some form
to it. A semblance
of. A pathway there.
#69 Musings of a Solitary Walker
He does not think
about the water
he walks
beside. He walks
without it. Another
river. The Sambre.
His mother’s
suicide by drowning,
her nightdress a
veil around her face
but that’s another
painting. This is
the Rue Morgue,
levitation, the corpse
laid bare. She has become
a disquieting muse he’d
rather not autopsy.
Leaves her behind
on the bridle-path.
Walks on alone. Apples &
umbrellas will eventually
overtake them both.
#70 The Lost World
In the surrounding
countryside
trees define
the type of horse
that might be found
there. The contours
suggest a woman’s
body; but with a
different angularity
some have seen
it as an empty
bowl of fruit. A figure
loses its memory
along with its outline.
Words wilt in the
winter heat. There
are no dinosaurs.
#71 À la suite de l’eau, les nuages
After the water, the
clouds. After clouds
the telephone. Then
the hope that
someone will hear it
ring. After the answer
the question. Who
picked the flowers?
Poems on this page © 2005-2006
Born in New Zealand, & now living on the Tropic of Capricorn in Australia, Mark Young has been publishing poetry for more than 45 years. His work has appeared in a wide range of journals, both print & electronic, and he has published a number of books, the most recent being Poles Apart, a selection of collaborations with Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, & The Cicerone, an extended version of one of his Series Magritte poems. He is also the co-editor, with Jean Vengua, of The Hay(na)ku Anthology. He maintains two weblogs, pelican dreaming & mark young's Series Magritte, & has an author's page at the New Zealand electronic poetry centre.
What's your favorite poem that you've written? Care to share it with us?
In the interests of brevity, this.
Pelican Dreaming
Later he would walk down to the
lagoon
to look for the pelicans. They were
his touchstone, the way their
solid bodies gave substance to the
landscape, a centre to it. Only when
they found him would he return.
For nostalgic reasons, A Season in Hell which was written thirty years ago.
What is your favorite poem by another poet (still alive still kicking still publishing now).
Ferlinghetti's "Constantly risking absurdity & death..."
What poets have had the most influence on your
work?
Gary Snyder, Carlos Williams, LeRoi Jones (as was).
What's your pet-peeve in a poem? (ex. comma
splices, obscurity)
When it doesn't talk to me.
What's your favorite print journal and why?
Because of my geographical location, I have lost touch
with print journals. My favourite, from way in the past, would be
Evergreeen Review in the days when it was still digest-sized. It
basically opened up the world to me.
Do you have a writing ritual? Care to share it?
Do you ever break this ritual for artistic reasons? If yes, how does it
change or improve your method?
I have no rituals, per se, but I do tend to smoke a lot
of cigarettes when I'm writing, & I can't write without a keyboard.
