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as i knock the clay again and again
on the slate topped bench
i think of you

all the air
must come to the surface

the clay hits
taking the shape of stopped
then back in my hands
becoming pliant

you are in me
surely as this block contains
the potential pot
or a jug with a handle
attached by slip

i'm unsure of the shape
we will finally take

but know there musn't be
the smallest pocket of secret air
that will expand
in the heat of the kiln
and shatter everything


The following comments are for "wedging the clay"
by ivoryfishbone

Super poem
I like this poem quite abit. I particularly like it's multiple meanings.

Good job, and I hope to see more of your stuff.


( Posted by: Richard Dani [Member] On: January 22, 2002 )

Excellent Meta4
I liked the comparation (can I even say that???...made up word alert!) of the clay to the relationship. It was a masterpiece in its simplicity.



( Posted by: Jeff [Member] On: January 22, 2002 )

This is what seperates good poetry from the bad. It makes things far more interesting if you explain feelings via a seemingly unrelated vehicle. I like.

( Posted by: dhazelrig [Member] On: January 23, 2002 )

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