#inktober 24. CHOP

 

Chop day? Well, again, I’m struck by the immediacy of this page-writing and how the instant the words are written I want to make changes. I want ‘A white onion’ for example, to slow the phrasing into ‘silence’. And I don’t want ‘a chop’ in the second line, I want ‘chop’ – ‘And what knows itself / as chop anyway? Chopped.’ In an economy of space, the page, I can choose to fill it or to make only one mark or to arrange many marks into the shape we call form or lines. I like the little poem that the line-breaks raise: ‘itself chopped down. Pork, paragraphs, rainforests, silence? Quiet now – world.’

 

And what knows itself

as a chop anyway? Chopped.

Choppy. Chop off. Chop down.

Chop up. Grass? Logs? Pork?

Water? Logic? Paragraphs?

A head? A limb? Rainforests?

Countries? An onion? Silence?

Do you consent? Quiet now.

Mud is the world.

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