Gardening (Working Title)
A rose is a rose is a rose
and a poem equals it
If it be well made.
If my verse is flowers,
then I must be a gardener,
but not a very good one.
While others prune and
water and
whatever, until bushels
of sacred geometry
open and speckle
their oeuvre like gemstars,
I take threadbare silk
and crudely carve out
petals. I take petals
and sew haphazardly
hoping for something
beautiful.
However,
the only beautiful being
the beautiful of
childishness.
I’ve a bouquet now,
but it smells like my hands.
Posted Aug 31, 2016, 4:07 AM UTC · edited
I like this one quite a bit, Gummy.
This is a great example of playing with a conceit throughout the piece. I love the twist in the fourth stanza that the narrator's poems are lifeless fake-roses made out of silk--the idea being that he is just appropriating extant (if fine) materials and reshaping them in a clumsy way. It also contradicts the earlier claim that he is a gardener (/poet).
There's a few bits of intentional jankiness that work really well with the self-deprecation ("and whatever", the wonderful nonce "gemstars", and the ungrammatical use of "beautiful" in the fifth stanza). "sacred geometry" is a clever metaphor for poetry with a great implied play on the word "line". The final two stanzas are just the icing on the cake for me.
Overall, really likeable, funny bit of self-deprecation with neat touches throughout
Thanks, the best part is it was probably more fun to write than to read.