Hung By
The Neck . . .
May 26 2015
Doorknobs
pass hand-to-hand,
Doorknobs
pass hand-to-hand,
like batons
in a marathon relay.
Constant use
Constant use
has burnished them smooth,
the dull patina
of sweat, and skin
and manly grips
and grand dramatic entrances.
And we all know what it means, wink-wink
when a tie dangles
the dull patina
of sweat, and skin
and manly grips
and grand dramatic entrances.
And we all know what it means, wink-wink
when a tie dangles
the key's been changed.
When the card proclaims
"Do Not Disturb”
in its demur, but certain,
way.
Although here, in my shuttered garret
I never see it turn;
if impervious
at least free of germs.
The perfect spot
to toss my jacket
when I return.
Where it's hung by the neck;
soft cloth
lightly propped
atop the gentle curve.
But levers
But levers
work better than knobs.
Where hands full
you can elbow or knee
and shoulder in.
No dead-bolt locks
or awkward pause.
Where hands full
you can elbow or knee
and shoulder in.
No dead-bolt locks
or awkward pause.
No dead-fish handshake
sweaty palms.
sweaty palms.
No many-roomed mansion
whose keys I've lost.
whose keys I've lost.
A kind of stream-of-consciousness effort that doesn't really
go anywhere, or necessarily say anything coherent. It's more of a jumble of
false starts and whimsical word play.
The one imperative I had in mind was my aversion to doorknobs (as well as other public surfaces, like washroom faucets and office banisters, or social niceties like the conventional handshake). I'm definitely a germophobe when it comes to touch. I'll pull my sleeve down to open doors. Or grab a paper towel. In the brief 4th stanza, this turns into a kind of social isolation, a walling-off from human interaction.
The 2nd last line is a bit mischievous. The Biblical reference (John 14:2) alludes to something a lot bigger than the poem justifies. But I think the open-endedness fits the poem's loose structure and scattershot allusions. And certainly gives the reader lots of latitude to go wherever she wants with it. The title, too, is mischievous. I think it invites the reader to complete the line like a stern judge, handing down his sentence: "hung by the neck until dead". Another playful aspect is the jumble of body parts, including necks, elbows, knees, shoulders, and hands. Not to mention sweat, skin, and sweaty palms!
The one imperative I had in mind was my aversion to doorknobs (as well as other public surfaces, like washroom faucets and office banisters, or social niceties like the conventional handshake). I'm definitely a germophobe when it comes to touch. I'll pull my sleeve down to open doors. Or grab a paper towel. In the brief 4th stanza, this turns into a kind of social isolation, a walling-off from human interaction.
The 2nd last line is a bit mischievous. The Biblical reference (John 14:2) alludes to something a lot bigger than the poem justifies. But I think the open-endedness fits the poem's loose structure and scattershot allusions. And certainly gives the reader lots of latitude to go wherever she wants with it. The title, too, is mischievous. I think it invites the reader to complete the line like a stern judge, handing down his sentence: "hung by the neck until dead". Another playful aspect is the jumble of body parts, including necks, elbows, knees, shoulders, and hands. Not to mention sweat, skin, and sweaty palms!
