Poetry

One Art – G. Timothy Gordon

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One Art

. . . something beyond themselves, beyond words.

-Celan-

There’s a scent that can’t be defined

Like breathless painting, music, dance

Unplowed yet into sentient fields,

Graphic grey-mists hovering water,

That won’t be read or turned to tongue

But be lived in its own skin as attar

From nard or musk, commingled

Jungle flora, balm from incense forests

Or fetid, pressed-against-the-pavement

Hog-nosed weasels littering freeway ditches,

Splatters and drips reeking formidable life

Without intrusive name, logic, their rank

Ineffable, what we can’t arrest as our own

Smart and sensible and very own keepsake.


Gordon‘s seventh poetry/fiction collection, FROM FALLING, will be published Spring, 2016 (Spirit-of-the-Ram P). Work appears in extensive juried journals. He has been awarded NEA and NEH Fellowships and been nominated for four Pushcart awards and NEA’s Western States’ Book Awards. He divides personal and professional lives between Asia and the Desert/Mountain Southwest.


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