Too Tall Sunflowers

The Exercise


Print out or copy Man Ray's "Lautgedicht" in some way:


http://www.phil.uni-mannheim.de/R1/Avantgarden/manray.htm


Use it as a template, or shape, for a poem on any subject. The best way to think of it is that the black lines are 'slots' into which words of (very roughly) the right length must be inserted.




Too Tall Sunflowers
After Man Ray's "Lautgedicht"


Now at twelve feet, not
a presumed and packaged four,
they're gawky


like girls who gangle
up preteen inches. Gold flower
clusters splay skyward,
resisting my finger's stretch
for these rangy sunflowers.


Summer is spent.
Early July's lavish blooms
withdraw into slack holiday
and if I leave October
to itself, that pleases


bees who cull around
the birds' threshing pecks,
humming, as I watch
finches bend down seedheads.


10-19-02



Too Tall Sunflowers
Revision based on Man Ray Exercise


Now at twelve feet, not
the four promised by the packet,
they're gawky


like young girls who gangle
up preteen inches. Gold flower
clusters splay skyward,
resisting my finger's stretch
for these rangy seedheads


as July's lavish blooms
withdraw into a slack season.
If I leave October
to itself, that pleases


bees who cull around
birds' threshing pecks. I watch
finches bend down seed-laden heads
that shouldn't have been too tall
for my reach.



Too Tall Sunflowers
For Sarah
Second Revision


They grew like young girls who gangle
up preteen inches. Now at twelve feet,
not the four promised, gold clusters
splay skyward, resisting my fingerstretch
for these rangy seedheads


as July's lavish blooms start
their withdrawal into a slacker season.
Finches bend down those seed-heavy tops
and if I leave October to itself, that pleases
bees who cull and hum around
the birds' threshing pecks.


11-16-02

June is the month for strawberries,
not September, but mine are ripening
as summer lapses into fall.

Coaxed red and sweet-warm
by a harvest sun, they stain my fingers
as I tug the fruit from their stems
and savor this late season.

September, 2002

Smoking (Revision)

If I could pull off Audrey Hepburn
I'd probably smoke. It has to be
Audrey, not Katharine--no candid
no-nonsense puffs for me, but the sultry pose
men reel to light. I mime poise

in black flats and pearls, elbow
hipbalanced and wrist tipped back as smoke
wisps upward. Of course, I'd choke if I inhaled the thing,
hack ingenue that I am. I'd just hold it to the side
and smile sweetly

while my bra strap slips
off my shoulder.

October 18, 2002

Original:


If it weren't for cancer fears and breath
that tastes of stale ashtrays
I'd probably smoke.
I'm Audrey Hepburn--thin
as a cigarette. I wear black flats
and pearls; my elbow
balances on wrist, wrist cocked
at that elegant angle of style
as the smoke wreathes upward.


It has to be Audrey,
not Katharine--no New England
no-nonsense puffs. I'd never
inhale the thing--I'd choke,
hack ingenue that I am--but just hold it
to the side and smile sweetly


while my brassiere strap slips
down my arm.

Hallowed Ground

When the trees in our yard flamed autumn, they foretold
Grandma's visit. Manna was plucked from the cookie jar and the book
she pulled out prophesied bedtime. Which one?
she'd tease, knowing my Moses! Read Moses! would outclamor
other pajamaed pleas. Then she'd sing once more of the stowaway
baby drawn from the Nile, the run-away fleeing Pharaoh's palace
for a kingdom of bleating subjects and the magic of a burning bush
that wasn't consumed. Yet I was

by the voice that delivered a tithe of flies, a river of blood, and doorposts
bloodied for escape. I shivered each time Egyptians sank in a backswirl
of sea and revelers had to drink the poultice of law. Sitting her lap,
that hallowed ground, bare toes dangling over knees, I breathlessly
vowed I'd never be swallowed up like Korah, for I knew
the veiled glow of God when I looked on my grandmother's face.

This afternoon is again filled with burning bushes. I lift my eyes
and watch the clouds skiff the chill through a frame of red.
Even in the autumn cool, I want to remove my shoes.

November, 2002-May,2003

Donna Smith