PHONAESTHETICS
…is the study of the beauty and pleasantness associated with the sounds of certain words
She said it was morbid fascination
and yes, of course, it was morbid,
but I wouldn’t say it was morbid,
that’s not what one says; although
one might say it was [thinks] wistful;
yes, there’s lightness to that,
all those lithe letters not the bloated
and doleful ones you find in “morbid.”
I mean, you have to drop an octave,
just to say the word: [sonorously] morbid.
Besides, it wasn’t that morbid,
no matter what she says.
POSSESSIVENESS
So, this guy writes a poem which holds
the key to one of life’s lesser mysteries
and this other guy picks it up and goes,
“That is one snazzy-looking key,”
and promptly adds it to his key collection.
Pride of place. Next to the key to his heart.
I get be-ers and do-ers, I do,
but have-ers, not so much.
I mean, what’s the point?
Because that’s the end to it.
I don’t get rich people who buy wines they
can’t drink and may not even be drinkable
and I don’t get cagophilists
with boxfuls of keys that
will never be turned again.
Life’s not big on cheat sheets
but the odd leg-up or lemon?
Why the hell not?
THE KISS
One day I forgot
or just didn’t.
I didn’t think
when I did;
I just did.
As you do.
I mean, I guess
I remembered.
But I don’t
remember
actively
remembering.
Making a note
to remember.
I mean, if you
have to try to
remember there’s
something wrong.
Like having to try
to love someone.
You don’t really
think about it or
have to think
about it.
You shouldn’t have to.
Should you?
Jim Murdoch has been writing poetry for fifty years for which he blames Larkin, who probably blamed Hardy. He has published two books of poetry, a short story collection and four novels.
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