Under
Not just South, not below.
The Underworld is inaccessible
unless you are in it. It exists,
a boat collapsed on the bed
of the ocean, pinned to the dark
sand by miles of water above.
To get to the Underworld,
you must slink down into your
method of experiencing
the surfaces we smash
meaning into. We rely on sight
before the Underworld.
Slide under, where you
can look back, and see that
sight is only superstition.
This might be my new favorite. The photo, the poem...the green of the Underworld. Do you remember the picture book The Funny Little Woman?http://www.amazon.com/Funny-Little-Woman-Picture-Puffins/dp/0140547533
ReplyDelete... your poem makes me think of that book. And other things. You continually amaze me!!
this is excellent, very good use of line breaks and I love the idea of sight as superstition
ReplyDeleteNow if you could just give instructions on how to get our of the underworld.;-)
ReplyDeleteThis poem made me feel slightly claustrophobic.
ReplyDeleteTerrific poem, Hannah.
ReplyDeleteSplendid.
ReplyDelete