April Poem Number Two

from: 'Why Things Don't Work'


It is mysterious why things don't work
and we do not have the answers
regretfully
sincerely
perhaps apologetically.
Nonetheless, sir/madam we suggest
humbly
that you stand outside on this clear night
- look up -
now tell us again
that nothing works.

Catherine Bateson 2/04/2015

First April Poem

I've decided not to always post whole poems here, but rather to always, the following day, post a taster of what I've done. Sometimes this will be the whole poem, sometimes a few lines, sometimes even the impulse or exercise behind them.

Yesterday, from a poem called 'W is for Wings':

In my mother's garden,
neglected chaos,
the watering can abandoned
beside a tree we agreed to cut down,
a gardenia dwarfed by some nondescript shrub
(metaphor for many women's lives)
only I see - if I close my eyes -

   a sweet Eden...