Bubbles by William J. Gibson

www.bluetyger.ca

Issue 34 Feb. 2007

main page

Poems

Bubbles

Mini-Essays

icecats

Saying goodbye to the old green couch

Apology to my back

bin here, bin filled, bin gone

Photos/Photography Stuff

Simocoe County Forest

Bubbles

William J. Gibson

I thought I knew what I was talking about
but really it was off the cuff
mirror construction

bouncing the light back
hurling syllables like grenades of love
practice grenades
dummy grenades
trying to move the woman

to rock her back from the moment
out of her shoes
out of the room
to pay undivided attention to my good soul
you know, the tattered white sheet
with the holes and the burn marks

I would put a crown on my head
and then run as fast as I could
into the nearest soft wall
the pointy crown
sticking me there
a trophy ignoring
the laws of gravity
filling with hope to help the beer settle

follow your bubbles when you crash
in the ocean in the dark
bubbles always go up

there was a crow walking along the road
and a car flattened black squirrel
and a wild tabby cat running along the ditch
chickadees calling
empty trees
summer too far away to call back