Thursday, January 29, 2015

No, Popsickle by Gabe Gudding

I hardly know what to say. A case of nonsense and anthropomorphism: The popsicle as a resilient child. The popsicle as a metaphor for not giving up. Maybe Gudding didn't mean that. But I love the sounds and the craziness of it. It's delightful to me.

No, Popsickle


No, popsickle: stay.
 Don’t be eaten. Remain in the freezer, the
 super market, lodge in the long
 far-traveling fridge truck—Be convoyed: indeed
 be conveyed for a Dakota
 a Missouri—but when the truck arrive
 at its depository
 —or store—at the end of what hot bridge in the dim forenoon,
 stay, little bulb of colored cold,
 far in your cozy no-no.
 I say chill, be a child, popsickle, refuse.

 First appeared in Court Green




To leave a comment, click below.

at
Labels: , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

I like the frivolity of this one. The long blank spaces suggest a youthful, breathless excitement over love. This poem was included in an is...

  • Galileo Galilei by William Jay Smith
    From the 20th c., here's a mysterious thing. What is the writer thinking? Is it just that the name Galileo and his awakening, changing, ...
  • Ode to the Dictionary,
    by Pablo Neruda
    A favorite from what I've read of Pablo Neruda's 225 odes. His best are a little far out, like this one. I like the idea of the dict...
  • Untitled, by Gabe Gudding
    I don't think Gudding is pursuing his poems any more, and that's a shame. This just lobs peace at me.   I consider this a prose poem...