Reading the poems of The Abandoned Eye by J. P. Dancing Bear makes me think of razor blades.
The words of the poems, and the poems themselves, cut like sharp knives. They embody a jagged edge, tearing at convention to be sure but also a tearing away of our conceptions of relationships, events, and everyday life.
A baseball game is a baseball game, until hunger steps up to the plate (and the double meaning of “plate” is useful here).
A tree seems just as tree, until you begin to deconstruct it by its rings of age, its squirrel holes, its imperfections.
A pond seems just a pond, until it becomes a metaphor for a graveyard, and a grave.
To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.
Photograph by Lynn Greyling via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
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