The Salt Truck

September 22, 2013

Suppose we lived in an endless, bottomless sea,
a sea so clear the horizon deceived us
into thinking that dry land could
be found by swimming towards the sun.
We’d leave no messages behind now, would we?
Such thoughts would seem to be mere poetry,
a name wrote in water by the water.
Led by the sun, we’d turn and turn, only to
return each night to the same churning sea.
How can you breed and breathe and drink the air
and think it clean—a substance all its own—
while the sun’s illusions dazzle you
with the perfumes of perfection? Look up.
The moon could be like the salt truck that comes
to preserve us every night from the soil’s decay.
The stars could be like porphyry left there
for us to laugh about, like elephants
bejeweled, like an old philosopher
who thinks philosophy will keep us all afloat.

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4 Responses to “The Salt Truck”

  1. extrasimile Says:

    Anna, there is good and bad philosophy.This is bad philosophy. Philosophy kills everything? (the rest of the sentence is unnecessary) Beware. And not at all what I had in mind.

  2. Anna Mark Says:

    like an old philosopher
    who thinks philosophy will keep us all afloat.

    What do you think of the phrase: Philosophy kills everything real at heart…?

    You don’t have to answer : )

  3. extrasimile Says:

    Hi John. I’ve been without a computer for a bit here. It ate something it couldn’t digest… Well, you’re right as usual. The old philosopher is still around. He’s a little pedantic today, a little too much prose for his poem. Perhaps he should go for a ride on that elephant. You think?

  4. John Stevens Says:

    Ah, that old philosopher! I’ve seen him before in your poems, Jim. He hangs around like those bejewelled elephants (although I haven’t come across those before) and it’s just like him to compare the moon to a salt truck!


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