The Book Life

4.1 | April 1, 2010

I am throwing stones out
the window, out of town, out
to sea. I am throwing
stones instead of bricks,
instead of bells, because
bricks and bells are too
heavy and too loud. Too much
effort. I do miss
America, it’s general contours,
the shape on the map,
familiarity with least one of its lakes,
and who could blame me?

I am throwing the stones
more like skipping rocks,
just to see if I can. I
do not really want
to throw bricks
or bells, particularly bells,
which are better rung. And
bricks are better
for walking on, and over.

I never knew much
about Quasimodo, I missed
that particular tale, somehow,
and I think now that I’d rather
not know. I remember something
hunchbacked, and bells, better rung,
did he ring them? And Paris?
That’s where I am now and I do
miss America
but I am not trapped
in any towers
and I don’t miss the bricks
where you are. I am throwing stones
like messages
just to see if I can, if I still care,
to see who might notice, or applaud.

[PROMPT: Shuffle – put the iPod on shuffle, take the first five song titles, put ’em in a poem.]


1 Comment »

  1. Hi, Laura. I look forward to following your poems this month. And I invite you to discover mine on the NaPoWriMo 2010 page at – Greg =)

    Comment by Greg O'Connell — April 1, 2010 @ 10:55 pm

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