testing (behind the screen)

Poem #172 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction


that
is a scratch-ing sound

he claws his fingers
drags them down
a line
on the screen

compares
what he hears
with what he heard

a softened clomp
surely that
was a pounce
on carpet

he pounces
flat-footed
pounces again
more accurately

that though
was a shuffle

shush shush

he pushes his feet
backward and forward
sharply
across the carpet

before he has finished
a hollow
tap-ping
perhaps a knuckle
on an empty desk
or a cupboard

a smash
some sort of crockery
broken

he has no cup
to compare with
and in any case
that
boing
has to have been
some sort of spring

it’s too fast
it’s all too fast
and he can’t see
what the sounds
really are

can’t know
if what he is doing
is anything like …
oh
that was surely
the [slap]
of a flat ruler

it is too fast
he cannot …

he sinks to the floor
his back
to the screen

hands
covering his ears

how can he know
anything
if he cannot test
what he hears

if he cannot
see


© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #173: to you and now a moment

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