Behind Glass, a petit récapitul portatif
Woman at a Window by Caspar David Friedrich
April 3, 2018, Paris
for the woman at the window
A tenure of retiring footsteps
and java of iffy origins
tooled your destiny in muted tones.
(retiring, iffy, muted)
You kept your hand on the ball, your eye
peeled for the signal to pitch your lot –
an open wire swaying yet uncrossed.
(kept, peeled, yet)
Maybe this spring’s release of vine will
burst the gutted and buried glass shrine
you beetled down under, unlatching
(maybe, buried, under)
relics of the unpronounceable.
– Jenn Cavanaugh
As the poet, I’m hoping to let the poem speak for itself. A note, however, about the fun Oulipo form: I find that these poems often write themselves in ways that surprise me. The links provide images and vocabulary that demand the creation of fresh poetic connections. It’s a useful form for breaking out of mental ruts or through blocks; because it does double duty by encouraging both free association and verbal problem-solving, it feels like activating multiple regions of the brain. You can find the rules for it here.
Homespun 