Don’t Touch Me
“Don’t open the door to heaven
if I can’t come in.”
—Jeannie Seely
Don’t make my heart leap
and shudder at odd hours:
my own deep and curmudgeonly
love—wingbroke brain,
the oak’s green canopy spooling
and unspooling its branches.
love—wingbroke brain,
the oak’s green canopy spooling
and unspooling its branches.
The long o
in ago
sings to me now, low.
in ago
sings to me now, low.
So I’m slow to answer others, woe
to answer myself.
So don’t wait up. I don’t regret
a single lucky cigarette
a single lucky cigarette
I turned over and saved and smoked.
The table’s turned. And I’m—
not answering.
32 thoughts on "Don’t Touch Me"
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You had me at “wingbroke brain”! My mouth made music as I read this out loud. So good!
Highest praise! Thank you Sylvia.
Wowsers, Shaun: “wingbroke brain”
Love how you use spooling and unspooling.
Thank you Pam!
Echo the same phrase.
And adore the whole concept/feeling and how you caught it
That Jeannie Seely song started it! Thank you Joseph!
The epigraph is perfect! That final quiet ‘not answering’ after the table’s turned all feel so honest and hard-won, Shaun.
Thank you! Sometimes being comfortable with the aloneness is a reward!
twins. the strain of weed i just started is called ‘wingsuit’ a word that might suit your/future use 🙂
as always. lovely sense of atmosphere here shaun..
Thank you! Good to see you Dustin! I’ll have to remember “wingsuit”
The long o
in ago
sings to me now, low.
So I’m slow to answer others, woe
to answer myself.
I like how in some of your poems you highlight the craft, here how the “o” vowel drags
Thank you! Sometimes I think it’s metapoetry and others I think I’m just explaining euphony to myself
This is full of fire. I love to see the description of your own love— “ the oak’s green canopy spooling
and unspooling its branches” just gorgeous!
Thank you Samantha! I appreciate your words.
Wonderful. Your lyric synapses are sparking like crazy here.
Thanks so much, Kevin.:) Two of my few remaining neurons must have accidentally touched while I was asleep:p
Oh – how utterly magical! Starting with the wing-broke brain and going on to those long ooooooos.
Oooh! Thank you Nancy!
like spooling and unspooling wonderful sounds
Thanks so much Pat!
Wow. I have no words. The flow is lovely and light with the rolling of your words, while emoting heaviness.
Did get some flashbacks with the mention of the “lucky” cigarette flip.
Thank you, Mary! It’s another habit I can’t seem to break!
I just love the way you play with the “o” sounds:
“The long o
in ago
sings to me now, low.
So I’m slow to answer others, woe
to answer myself.”
What an excellent poem!
Thank you so much, H.A.!
This poem really drew me in. Those lines:
“my own deep and curmudgeonly
love—wingbroke brain,
the oak’s green canopy spooling
and unspooling its branches.” –what an image!
And then all the sounds of those italicized words sang to me.
Thank you, Karen! I have been waiting for the words to sing to me!
Shaun, I love everything about this poem, but you had me at “wingbroke brain”! An amazing write! Bravo!
Thank you, Winter Dawn! <3
holy cow, this is a good poem
Thanks so much, Kris!
My lord, Shaun. A great gift you have.
Such amazing sounds in this poem!