A new poem, for National Poetry Day.
‘There are many great reasons to make a rubber band ball…’
and you can start with almost nothing – scrunched
paper, or a hollow shell. Whatever core
you choose will be obscured, stretch after stretch,
as tension tightens into architecture.
In time, the structure will become so taut
that this is what maintains it. What an art:
how things are held together by the force
of endlessly pulling themselves apart.
And if the surface wears through to the brink,
take strait-jackets of stress and bundle through
the tangle clustered underneath your hand.
One day, you’ll feel it: that familiar kink
between the shoulders of the person who
stoops down to you, and peels back each band.