Poems by Mark Young

SEA, ME, & LIBERACE

A school of Patagonian toothfish
have given me a candelabra
for my saint’s name day. I’ve
placed it on the grand piano,
next to the porcelain vase that
a pod of dolphins gave me
some months back, & in front
of a piece of rutilated schist,
not a gift but a found object,
not from the sea but from where
the sea used to be, millenia ago.


100 TITLES FROM TOM BECKETT: #12

How Will We Assemble One Another?

So who decides which one goes first
when neither is whole enough to make
decisions? & when that resolved, how
then to proceed given the inherent
difficulties once the manual is dis-
played. The instructions are in a foreign
language which will present a serious
challenge since there are no visuals to
assist; & from the positioning of the
few recognizable words the steps seem
to be neither sensible nor sequential. As ex-
ample: foot & mouth follow one another.
Does that mean that foot & mouth disease
will be part of the finished product? Or is
it an invitation to clumsiness, as in every-
time the mouth is opened, a foot will be
placed in it? Nor is there any obvious
provision for either left-or right-handed-
ness. Small things, perhaps, but they seem
what is focused on, & attributes that should
be important are left to chance. Example:
gender decided not by intent bur rather by
what bits & pieces are left over at the end.