Tuesday, February 23, 2010


--after Kathy Westwater and Jennifer Scappettone

I want to make a park with you
Make a campfire in the park
Like Mylar crinkles like light is durable
The light that unmakes us

I want to make a fort where
Melody was and our voices were
Where our voices became a
Collective cry in the lost air
And yet uplifted and yet
Somehow spoken

To me not in heaven yet
Not into its hands
Nor enclosed the voices we do
The fences we tend to also a kind
Of unmaking

Bodies full of pain remake
The world because they are not just
A language never were they full
Of grace the toxins structuring us.


Kyle said...

You make a hell of a campfire Thom!


Eleni Stecopoulos said...

dear thom, i especially love the last strophe..uncannily just told students about Scarry and "the making and unmaking of the world," and how i've always been interested rather in what poetics, making, can come from pain.

Thom Donovan said...

I think you would like Westwater's work Eleni. her piece before *Park*, *Macho*, is all about the body in pain--bodies being unmade. so there is this interesting trajectory in her work from unmaking to remaking. my argument about Park (which will appear in a forthcoming Brooklyn Rail reveiw) goes a little something like that anyway. thanks for commenting 'here' and, as ever, it is so nice to see the dots connecting, many of us plowing the same fields despite geographical distance and being intermittently out of touch.... love