(a poetics of body, land, and water)
terroir, not quite terror
although there has definitely been
fear attached
and feelings of inadequacy
through it all, the smell of earth
which kept me here
in the rumblings and rambling of phrases
and pauses
with heard words and lost punctuation
the scent of both anxiety and pleasure
lift towards nostrils
from the inside out
the terroir of language, this phrase seems appropriate
speaking close to the flesh of meaning
(March 18th, 2014)
* * *
This poem still feels awkward to me, maybe it just needs more work. Perhaps I’ll return to it another day.
