{"id":2673,"date":"2014-11-05T08:39:05","date_gmt":"2014-11-05T16:39:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/alteritas.net\/GXL\/?p=2673"},"modified":"2015-05-19T17:28:24","modified_gmt":"2015-05-20T00:28:24","slug":"shinny-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/GXL\/?p=2673","title":{"rendered":"Shinny"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was a boy myself once so\u00a0don’t need
\n<\/span>much told me about trees. I know to hide
\nin their boughs and filch their illicit fruit
\nbefore it falls to the ground and takes root.
\nI know to shinny up high then clamber
\nto where branches thin and the climber
\nfeels a pit suddenly yawn in his guts,
\nup where twigs extend to buds, where height hurts.
\nSomething about a tree doesn’t really mind
\nthe theft of its fruit. A tree is resigned
\nto a boy\u00a0swaying in his tenuous
\ncrotch, dizzy at his chosen precipice.
\nSomething about a tree wants to be climbed.
\nSomething about a boy wants to climb it.<\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>\n

Probably the less said about this poem, the better: a distant echo of Frost’s “Birches”, this crypto-sonnet bears the alternative title “Onanism”. Related to this earlier poem, “Sad To Be a Child”<\/a>.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I was a boy myself once so\u00a0don’t need much told me about trees. I know to hide in their boughs and filch their illicit fruit before it falls to the ground and takes root. I know to shinny up high then clamber to where branches thin and the climber feels a pit suddenly yawn in … <\/p>\n

Continue reading “Shinny”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

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