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Ghazal-Head, Terrance Hayes


  • cvillelisa
    Feb 19 9:12 PM
    Reply








    Ghazal-Head
    Terrance Hayes

    You no good fork sucker, that's what.
    You no good backscratcher, that's what.

    A blue thumbnail. An old light fixture. A toy-like hammer.
    A glass or pitcher. Bend your fingers, that's what.

    You're one of those sleepers. Those pod people
    Poking their noses, those nose blowers, that's what.

    I could care less for your deluxe vacuum.
    Suck your own luck you no good Hoover, that's what.

    Gulp, gulp, I yelled at your mouth when I saw it walking
    Across the room like a no good rumor, that's what.

    No count number. Indentured mumbler.
    Black shoe stumbler. Beer belly bumbler, that's what.

    And I know you know I know and I could care less.
    Your ailments into amens; angst into anger, that's what.

    Slow down, I told the boy with the knife.
    Give me a hug, I told the mother hugger, that's what.

    I lied, what about it? I loitered too. Like dust.
    I did what you did like a no good mirror, that's what.

    What about it, po'mouth? You no good goody goody.
    What about it? I know what I said. Lover, that's what.







  • just mercedes
    February 20 ↑
    Reply
    I tried hard with this poem. I'm hearing a voice calling against racism? or is that too strong a word - against culture that keeps his voice sumerged in the mainstream. Ghazal gives me Muslim, but maybe it shouldn't. Lover in the last line reinforces religion for me, though.

    I'm probably reading this all wrong, and will now go and see what I can find about the poet - in the hope it will make the poem clearer - but I shouldn't have to do that. mea culpa. I'm just not a very good reader yet.

  • cvillelisa
    February 20 ↑
    Reply

    Are you familiar with the the Ghazal form? Sometime last year my friend Zara started writing them. We had a long and interesting (well to us lol) discussion about it on the Poetry Forum here.

    Anyway, with the leapingness that the form requires, I find that I rarely "understand" ghazals. I sort of just let my mind go. I found I grew to love this one for its sound and the way it sort of completely honors the ancient forms stricter requirements (that mid line rhyme especially) but is so very modern. i haven't a clue what it is about. LOL. And i didn't like it for a year! I kept rejecting it. But it just drew me back.

    How about this one? It isn't a ghazal obviously but this poem led me back to the ghazal again. Something about the sounds I think.


    Oh Grow Up

    First thing's first aid and off-track
    abetting, next best bloodshot, blood-work,
    smarmy reprimand commanding indoor voices,
    some chomping at the little bit small choice
    of soup or nut or thrum or hustle. Honey, clinch
    or canyon? Working girls include wicked witch
    of the Western omelet, she of the one night best for last
    stand. Last gal standing. Fat lip and a canker, fat
    chance of better bodywork or better business
    as usual smuggled tub of butter pecan. Yes
    yes, hit you and yes so sorry, so long.
    Long way from Story County, sold for a song.
    Captain Obvious: you got a lip on you.
    Captain Obvious: we end each day on earth.





    *

    Dora Malech, Columbia Poetry Review, spring 2008.

    I guess it's a sonnet eh?
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