Every time the Boatman leans
against his pole and pushes
the water's solid floor, his pole
turns into a newspaper hat
leaving no connection between
hands and earth.
His passengers
always arrive at their destination
and yet the canal is littered
with old news and the melting
gray dye of a cheap sweater
in the wash. Should I try
propelling a boat with a paper hat
or is motion more personal than that?
© R. Jeffrey Roberts
About Me
- Jeff Roberts
- No one likes everything. We explore. We discover. We winnow. When young we are silly in our devotion to music. We pretend. We imitate our favorite artists. When Midnight Train to Georgia comes on the radio, I still turn into a Pip. Jimmy Buffet’s A Pirate Looks at Forty still touches me. I am similarly affected when I encounter good and great art and poetry. Joseph Cornell, Seamus Heaney, Louise Nevelson, Louise Gluck, Giorgio de Chirico, William Carpenter, Dali. When I see a Duchamp that nails it for me, I have the urge to windmill my arm like Pete Townshend. What if we let art and poetry sneak up on us like music? What if art came in 3 minute bursts and had a volume knob? What if?
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