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After Reading “What We Can’t Forgive” by Martina Newberry

What We Can’t Forgive, Martina Newberry

After reading What We Can’t Forgive, i find myself deeply emerged in swamplands of feelings. The connections made in poetry are often connections that work faster than words have a right to do. And here i am, after reading, and quite helpless to ignore music that happens to seep into my soundscape, or even dismiss the fact that it, too, is eerily in key with the poems I’ve just read.

What I Can’t Forgive is, you see, written by Martina Newberry, and if you know her work, there’s no real reason for me to elaborate. But if you haven’t read her, then maybe i should mention that she pulls traditional associations and re-wires them to new brain cells and body pulses. New synapses at work. And new synapses have huge quantities of energy that all seem to resonate at once.

Maybe here’s a good place to post one of her pieces. Like this one for example, At Night

AT NIGHT

All day,

I thought of the city,

of freeways and

overpasses and

tunnels long enough

that you might be afraid

there is no end to them.

When late afternoon came,

it came with

a  pissy attitude and

solar temper.

I closed my eyes

tight like gritted teeth.

Every night we are

newly dead and

every morning, newly born.

That alone should make me happy, but it doesn’t.

What does?

The thought of my good bed,

My dreams of concrete clouds,

Air that smells like old clothes,

The eccentric lamplight on sputtering streets,

The ominous openings of alleys.

Now it’s late.

My neighbor’s vodka

has numbed my tongue

but not my heart

which is holding a grudge.

Perhaps I should meditate.

Or take drugs.

The choice between Shiva and Seroquel

is not always a wise one.

Tonight may be one of those nights

when sleep is a joke I tell myself.

Tonight may be one of those nights

when holding on

to the mattress

is as close as I’ll ever get

to Nirvana.

“When late afternoon came, it came with a pissy attitude…” – you know what that is. Don’t we all know that pissy attitude that shows up, uninvited, and if we’re good hosts, we let it stay.

So, that’s my mind, right now – lost to focus on anything else but What We Can’t Forgive, Martina Newberry. Here it is on amazon.

And now i’m off to investigate this late afternoon and how attitudes come and go.

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