Testing (Severance)

I plan to read a handful of poems from my new manuscript on Thursday at the reading in Grosse Pointe. The manuscript is entitled Severance. Tonight these poems left the page for the first time, in solitude. But here’s one for you to hear. And see.

Please listen while you read. (And whistle while you work).


In Winterland \ we jaunt and whirl

all Oldsong\ to pulleys and script

In a scene of us (all silverstrung

as caught fish) in the coming of Ice \ a snow-like snow

through blue filtered light onstage: into our mouths

our good open O’s of going

and Oldsong \ the audience singing

            where do the fish go \ the fish go

My Manipulator: nimble-fingers me

with Cross and String \ from up in that place above the Beams

and we Dance so as to dream

we Dance \ (and Believe! Believe!)

As the Audience

            clap clap clap

mouths Oldsong and Day \ (and follows

with their fingers, our lines) Our Lines


When Grief \ (a threaded one)’s gone

off-script                         Upstage

            not as the scene’s been blocked, Grief

            (were I the master of jawhinge I’d say to Him)


Out, We’re Out of Followspot!

(a twist of lines, then: Me into Grief)

two crumpled Puppets \ at Curtainfall

Two falling out of Day

Two into Dark \ Water under ice

–Robert Fanning, from “Severance”