‘For a Moment’ by Ron Padgett

'For a Moment' by Ron Padgett

It’s funny how
if you just let go
of things they

will come to
you. That is to say
sometimes. So what

good is such a
generalization?
Ah, it makes you

feel good to say
such things from
time to time,

as if you actually
and really and truly
knew something!


Source: Padgett, Ron. Collected Poems. Minneapolis, Minnesota: Coffee House Press, 2013, p. 415.

Sweat Sweet as Melons the Tongues

one

hands grasping the
ornamental knobs of
the man-ropes father
mapple cast a
look this color
orange tries to
remind me of
you lay down
and be slumbering
a cabinet is
kind the and
when i’m cornered
at the final
blown it seems
from room in
clouds peeks at
ourselves in the
mirror brain inside
the test tube
is still alive

two

the thing that
death gave you
themselves christian thorns
you bet apples
bananas sour as
sweat sweet as
melons the tongues
and tigers hotly
towards dancing away
from your cars
by the frond
of the sea
i live of
rain made out
to ask me
whether we were
again to be
bedfellows i told
him yes whereat

three

content and there
let him rest
all our arguing
with him would
not avail let
him be in
and out a
window will never
create hay back
me up then
to ask to
arrive late and
be polite so
you are do
you know here
is the corner
a couple of
men jump up
7th as a
little there’s only
one option

“Aubade Sung at Laetare a Year Ago” by Guillaume Apollinaire

aubade1

It’s spring come out Esther you should
Take a walk in the pretty woods
The hens are clucking in the yard
Dawn’s pink folds are shooting skyward
And love is coming to steal your heart

Mars and Venus have come back anew
They give each other mad kisses
An innocent interlude
While beneath the fluttering roses
Lovely pink gods are dancing nude

So come my tenderness is queen
Of this flowering that appears
Nature is beautiful and touching
Pan is whistling in the trees
The wet frogs are singing

spacer1

Source: Apollinaire, Guillaume. “Aubade Sung at Laetare a Year Ago.” Zone: Selected Poems. Trans. Ron Padgett. NYRB Poets, 2015. 25. Print.

First Barn Owl Egg Hatch

Wikipedia Poem, No. 484

wiki484-sm

“There is a separation / between life and death / where [feathers] grow // and that is where I want to go / this weekend,” paraphrasing Padgett

screech
in green darkness
and 
stamp 
         my 
          talons

wet 
      leafy flesh 
the 
master has built 

there 
will be 
many bones

a small mouthful
       of mouse
      a 
      fatty 
       bite

Wikipedia Poem, No. 182

 

mfstare

“If only your arms were green, you could have two small lawns!” Ron Padgett

 

          i’ve 
   been 
in here i don’t fit in 
new 
       york 
took me about a week i don’t know 
          where 
         i don’t see people 
        and occasionally fail 
as 
     a 
      person because i 
don’t 
see people who are 
obsessed by 
       their 
lives are 
    like i don’t fit 
    in 
here i don’t 
know i don’t 
    know 
where i 
had totally failed 
as a person because
        i had to 
recover from 
the delusion i failed as a person because 
i don’t know where i had my 
photo taken 
i don’t know where 
      i don’t 
        see people who are like i don’t know i 
         don’t see people and 
         it took 
   me about about a 
week i don’t 
         see people who are like i don’t 
         see 
      people

Sources: 
Moshfegh, Ottessa, and Kristine McKenna. Certain Age. 
   Harper’s Magazine Foundation, May 2016. Web. 27 Apr. 2016.
Padgett, Ron. "Survivor Guilt." Best American Poetry 2015. 
   Eds. Sherman Alexie and David Lehman. New York: Scribner, 2015. 106-107. Print.