This is a chain of poems composed in the comment thread to yesterday’s Morning Porch entry. Pittsburgh-based poet and master of enigma of Bob BrueckL started us off — inadvertently, I think — with a poem about the letter A in response to Luisa Igloria’s poem in response to my entry. Luisa followed with poems about B and C, at which point I jumped in and continued down the alphabet. We keep adding to it throughout the day and into the evening, with interruptions to fix supper and the like. In what follows, I have done only a bare minimum of editing, and have chosen only one poem for each letter — there were a few for which we each wrote one. The original thread is also worth checking out for the contributions of regular Morning Porch poet-commenter Albert Casuga, which were in a slightly different spirit but also fun, and one contribution from late-comer Barbara Case.
A.
What is A?
A is A.
It opens, non-
blurry mercy,
thricely.
*
And B.
B curls twice
into itself.
Small
mercies — it tucks
the corners into bed.
*
C?
I miss
you already;
should have kept
my arms closed.
*
D
isn’t D
prived of
another half.
Its smile is full,
its single string
is taut with D
light.
*
E, so regal
in upper case,
it’s easy to forget
how the commonest letters
can close their fists.
*
F
I combed
the seashells
out of my hair,
would my songs
change?
*
G
Gravitas is
the gooseneck lamp
above the foldout desk,
the grizzled poet poring
over goldenrods or
geraniums.
*
H,
how I learned to hate
that chair in the hall!
*
I
stare
at my
paperwhite
reflection, my
starry
I
*
J
hides
in my I
and waits to be baited.
*
K
Kisses
go straight
to the
point.
*
L
begins with E—
like F, except
it keeps what F loses
and thus becomes
so much lovelier.
*
M
Primal letter MA
with her mountains
of milk.
*
N
When
was the last
time I clambered
up a slide and
rode it, rapid
down— which
seemed
up?
*
O
the moon
approves
all round
and endless
pleasures.
*
P
plays tennis
on the side.
*
Q
Shy,
left-
behind
one,
you make
a quiet
coda
to this
parade.
*
R
Half rebus,
half hieroglyph,
hoisting its one
good wing.
*
S
We were both lost,
though heading in
opposite directions.
“Have you seen my white eye?”
“Have you seen my black?”
*
T
Tell me
one
clear
thing
I’d like
to hear
not two-
way signals
tilting in
the wind.
*
U
Upturned
like a mouth,
like a well
under the stars;
upended,
umbrella
deflecting
asterisks
and commas.
*
V
In the anatomy
of the ear, this is
the part called
the chantarelle.
*
W
Window shaded
with accordion pleats—
wistful is the one
who leans out;
watercolors in the distance.
*
X
Whenever the numbers
go on strike,
here’s your scab:
four strong limbs
ready for any value.
No pesky head.
*
Y
I yield
to you
as to warmer
wind— the two
top buttons
come undone.
*
Z
We glide
from one axis
to another,
in order to
begin again,
defying
zero.
***
Bob BrueckL: A
Luisa A. Igloria: B, C, F, G, I, K, N, O, Q, T, U, W, Y, Z
Dave Bonta: D, E, H, J, L, M, P, R, S, V, X
