Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
I’ll tell you straight: I do not want to write a villanelle.
The tricksy rhymes and sing-song form I simply do not trust.
Besides, what’s worse, it has to make some kind of sense as well.
To date, my efforts have been flaccid. Wholly doomed to fail,
I fudge with half-rhymes, patch the blanks and gaps as well I must.
I’ve told you straight: I do not want to write a villanelle.
These machinations on the page are such exquisite hell:
The stitching of the words, the meaning thrust
upon the sense, the sense they have to make so well
that seams remain unseen in neat syllabic parallel,
no errant threads to tangle or dismay; no wonder I just—
don’t want to write a villa-bloody-nelle.
Don’t talk of one art, dying light, or any of that cartel.
If my waking’s any slower then my neurons will combust.
You see? I cannot write and make it make some sense as well.
If I were into magic then I’d weave a better spell
than fiddling with this nonsense, this linguistic heap of rust.
Who cares what sense means? Sense means what it wants, and just as well
I told you straight, I didn’t want to write a villanelle.