Longlisted Poem 2011
Andrew Wynn Owen
Tonbridge School, Kent
So I need a rhythm, a beat, a fold
in vibrations flowing through the feet –
call it repetition, old condition, but either way
I need to make the floor want more. Beg. Force
the face of the earth to pathfind for me. Scrunch
the toes, wiggle them, squiggle the mud, bend
arches like Philoctetes bow. You know
they’re made for you to screw up. Scrapes
you get into now are practice. The world
is a forest and a forest, if you see it for
the trees, is a field. Filed under ‘f’. Foot:
appendage – one letter pen of steps. No prob.
Energy and entropy are next – they net
together, do their duet, make ripples. Leave
a line to think on that. It’s important later.
OK. Carry on. Keep the air pumping,
the organic winches and levers in the legs working
like a band of tubas, in concert. Orchestrate
it all, same time signature behind you but don’t
swivel, nozzle or look back. Let everything flow
and nuzzle up. Clear the atmosphere. Mismanaged
mist can scupper us. Don’t kick. Oil
the food pipes, fuel the pneumatic
chambers. Dancing is next week.
Place one foot
in front of the other.
© Andrew Wynn Owen
- Date January 2, 2015
- Tags 2011 Simplicity - Longlisted Poems