Variation
by John Johnson
Another day undone, and now evening is unbecoming. It had all been doable, taken in pieces, the processes interchangeable yet never indistinguishable, fluted chambers through which the impulse passed without diminishment, though its structure varied (bonds broken, electrons stripped from the outer shells), always something to read, something to watch while calibrating the image. Once you’d seen it your mind made up details. It’s surprising how little it takes to suggest a figure, however difficult it may be to say what it is: human, fish, flower, above ground or below, fixed or free. For instance, here’s a painting of an artist working en plein air, titled, “What the Eye Actually Sees.” But the canvas in the painting is turned away, and the painter, behind it, peers back at the viewer. Or this one, a young caddy distracted by a luminous veil. Should he follow the old golfer onto the golden green? And this one, of only a few lines. The artist says, “The work comes from a sensation of pleasure.” Maybe so. Then again, this may be more foolish fire. We’ll have to watch with long eyes and see.
John’s poems and translations have appeared in many print and online journals. He is co-translator, with Terry Ehret and Nancy J. Morales, of Plagios/Plagiarisms, the poetry of Ulalume González de León, winner of the 2021 Northern California Book Award for poetry in translation. You can find more of John’s work at poemalog.tumblr.com.