Monday, November 28, 2011



The math after.
A fallout of numbers,

numerical confetti
where the piñata

once dangled.
The carcass of

a machine, a body,
either too old or

newfangled to
disappear in

usefulness. Thing
that lingers,

that loiters.
The black bags

of trash that
lollygag in alleys

and in bins,
dark and shiny

skins holding in
what we abandon.

All is disposable,
except for that which

persists. The echo
unhinged from

the sound that
threw it. The part

of the party when
it has ended

and the guests
have returned home,

when they slouch on
their couches in

crumpled suits and
gowns before sleeping.


  1. So good, Hannah, with a number of stand-out lines, including "The carcass... usefulness.", "skins holding in/ what we abandon.", and "All is disposable,/ except for that which / persists." The poem calls to mind a recent photograph I saw of the huge collection of detritus in the ocean from the Japan earthquake, now moving toward land.

    The image of "black bags/of trash that / lollygag" and the final scene that is so familiar are vivid.

    Great start to the week.

  2. Wow, I love this and the lollygagging. The images work together so well as their own kind of confetti.

  3. The images in this poem go beautifully with the image, which reminded me of the tsunami in Japan.

  4. One of your very best, Hannah. I love that opening couplet. And then all the others too. Haunting and yet I smiled through it too.

  5. Prosody, yes. It was there.


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