The Tattooed Poets Project: Julie Platt
Today's poem comes to us from Julie Platt. It's our first sestina in this year's Tattooed Poet's Project:
STEADFAST MUZZLES
I traveled to this place to earn this sentence: The last blue
tiger stood stoic, slate-blue, stone-blue, still, behind my gun’s
mouth and I did not take him. And yet I only half-believed
the whispers that the blue tiger’s singularity could stay
wickedness, and make god stand still. The thicket, infinite
has caught me…Say you bought a pouch of stones
soaked in tiger piss—to lure him. Then more stones
divided and divided from the trail you left, pointing at blue
shadows everywhere. You might think you had infinite
luck; you could squat under the leaves, polish your singular gun
and think that if you learned the land’s tongue you could stay
awake here, blending into bramblescapes…You trust that to live
is to represent in your heart what is impossible, and to believe
it when it steps outside. This is why I had to go back for the stones,
each and every one, lest the tiger follow…I stayed
with some dark-skinned people for a while, and they offered blue
ochre for my face, and frowned, then laughed at my gun
as if I had been fashioning a trap for something infinite,
some god-animal with petrifying eyes. Still I had infinite
patience, I had a gun, I had that bag of stones and a live
wire from my mind to something edgeless there, and I was gunning
for the prize, and for its blessing. But those dreadful stones
divided, multiplied, obscene miracle in my hands, the blue
unwieldy flood of them and their stink, and I couldn’t stay
under cover. I ran out into the tiger maw and stayed
there, and prayed for just one…Do you think the infinite
machine is kind? Do you think it folds you in its blue
shade like a papoose, uncovers your eyes slowly, lets you live
with each expanding rapture, as with a single stone?
Never, stones are never one in number…I had my gun
cocked a thousand times in my mind, I had my gun
and I had to take the tiger when it pawed out, I told myself to stay
awake, I had my dream of a singular god, I had the stones,
I had the stones, the stones had me, the god had me, the infinite
and me and all our steadfast muzzles diving and dividing, still alive
in the dividing, how can I say the sentence that I’ve earned: O blue
one, look how I slide my gun into my mouth to mute my infinite
tongue, tiger, stay where I can see you singular, take me alive
tiger, and roll these stones away, their numberless, horrific blue.
Julie Platt was born and raised in Pittsburgh and now lives in Michigan. Her print poetry chapbook, In the Kingdom of My Familiar, was published by Tilt Press in 2008. My mini e-chapbook, Imitation Animals, was published by Gold Wake Press in 2009. Two poems from
Imitation Animals were selected to appear in Dzanc Books' Best of the Web 2010. My work will also appear in the forthcoming e-anthology Poems to Sweat By: Hungry Young Poets 2009, published by VanVinkinroy's Indie e-Book Emporium.
Thanks to Julie for sharing her poetry with us here on BillyBlog!
[If you enjoyed the sestina form, I will shamelessly plug my own entry in last year's Tattooed Poets Project, by linking my "Maiden Sestina" here.]
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