Stable
Hang the pots and pans from hooks in the ceiling,
a cluster of low, steel planets.
Insert all knives in the slotted block,
blades safe in the wood.
Slip books beside each other in the shelves.
A thick, white roll of paper towels
should be suspended horizontally.
It offers you its arm.
We make an item, and invent for it a holder
so that we can better reach it,
so that we can put it away,
satisfied with how the things we need are kept
for us, stable, contained.
I never considered that the paper towels might be offering me their arm. How gallant! ;-)
ReplyDeleteYou have such a fresh eye, Hannah.
Ah, I love this. When you are on point - with your phrasing, your images, your head-tilted-ever-so-slightly-at-the-world perspective - everything just works.
ReplyDeleteHow refreshing to read a poem that celebrates, quietly and soberly, the affirmative - that which works and has its place; that which is stable. How satisfying.
ReplyDeleteI like the image of the pots as planets.
ReplyDeleteDick's comment really made me smile and I think he's right about that satisfied feeling.
from Therese L. Broderick -- an apt poem for the lunar eclipse and solstice (as was your Dec. 20th poem too). The images here remind me of telescopes (paper towel) or cameras focused on the celestial bodies.
ReplyDeleteI was expecting a stable with horses and took me a while to realize you meant stable...yes, we do that...make holders, I am not crazy about it but do we have any options, no! xoxo
ReplyDeleteI adore how this post is an instructive and then offers the ontology of an object. You, my friend, are brilliant.
ReplyDeleteHi Hannah,
ReplyDeleteThis poem has wonderful rhythm and imagery. I love the way your concepts are arranged, the order of the words: "We make an item, and invent for it a holder." I also enjoy "a cluster of low, steel planets." ~ Annie