Pattern Recognition

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I like to talk. And write poetry. I paint a little too.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Lofoten Poem

Strange Fruit

Key limes drop into the Arctic
fisherman’s palm, salty cod bodies
dry south-facing on poles
while gooseberries common as mangoes
ripen in a Northern garden.

Poets’ tongues are pens
tonight, as silence floods the rorbu
the way sea-fog rolls in
with no warning. Arguments evaporate
over beer and reindeer
balls! we say, to everything!
and Here’s to us.


Blogger Unknown said...

what a great saying (and poem)!!!! I love it.


11:39 PM, August 20, 2006  
Blogger Rob said...

" and reindeer/ balls"!

Yes, I can imagine a few arguments evaporating at the sight of those. It took me three reads before I read "reindeer balls to everything!" - no doubt a confusion you intended.

If I have reindeer balls nightmares tonight...

10:17 PM, August 22, 2006  
Blogger Aisha said...

Thanks for reading.
We eat canned reindeer meat balls, OK? You have a problem with that?!


7:23 AM, August 23, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Not only a fine poem, but a reminder of a most enjoyable gathering.

3:57 PM, September 04, 2006  
Blogger hwf said...

The reindeer balls were good, but the cod tongues...well, an acquired taste for someone as un-Norwegian as I am, same north country fair notwithstanding.


6:10 PM, September 13, 2006  

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