ditch,

the poetry that matters

Jon Parsons

Jon Parsons is originally from St. John’s but has been living in exile on the mainland for many years. He recently completed an MA in English at Brock University. New work continues to appears on his blog: http://waxinggrasshopper.blogspot.com

I Sail


i

sailsail
i
sailsailsailsail
i
sailsailsailsailsailsialsail
i
sailsailsailsailssailsailsailssailsailsail
i
sailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsail
i
sailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailsailssailssasilsailsailsailsailsailsail
i
i
as the ship was heading into a storm the captain said
sometimes you can do everything right and still lose
and though it may seem that the race is finite
it's only one lap around the track
only an agon


 

 


Metaphysics

 

 

What can I tell you about metaphysics

m

e

i




h

ps

t




a

y

c

when I don't even understand physics?


 

 



Words

wordsword
..sword
...swo
...rds
...wor
...dsw
...ord
...swo
...rds
...wor
..dswor
dswordswor
.dswodsw
.ordswor
.dswrdor
.dswords
.wordswo
.rdsword
.swordsw
.ordswor
.dswords
.wordswo
.rdsword
.swordsw
.ordswor
.dswords
.wordswo
.rdsword
.swordsw
.ordswor
.dswords
.wordswo
.rdsword
.swordsw
.ordswor
.dswords
.wordswo
.rdsword
.swordsw
.ordswor
.dswords
.wordswo
.rdsword
.swordsw
..ordsw
..ordsw
..ordsw
...ord
...swo
...rd
....s





I hear you say, I hear

 

words are br oke
words f

a

 

l

 

l

 

down

I think I know what you're saying, but what you think I'm saying is really not what I'm thinking. And besides that, what do you say to someone who says what they think you want to hear?

(**The title "I hear you say, I hear" is from Samuel Beckett's The Unnamable)

 

 
 

Untitled

When thinking was fun without drinking

d

o

w

n

                                        s

                              h

                   o

          t

s,

and loving was living without

s

         m

             o

         k

     i

 n

g

pot

I knew the arc of the back of the cat.

Tonight I know nothing of that.

 

 

Since I had nothing to say and had to say something

said nothing
cast my soul
the shape
of a letter
let it be
broke form
closer to human
more humble
nothing in word
fails to tell
places inside
who could tell
words broke
kept together
duct tape
call them poetry
write lines
similar lines
without pauses
without respite
someone get it
that damn phone
always ringing
almost always
probably for you
I'm not home
forgot
how it goes
your move
a tissue
tea
for certain
shall you
honey
no sugar
many varieties
both one and the other
the path
never tells
just waits
a neighbour
next door
thrashing
at midnight
knell of bells
a necromancer
scent of pepper
incandescent
white whipped wind
nonsense too
what neighbour
other color
never knew
said nothing

said nothing

 

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