P


P

The lips press together, then part:
it’s speaking!

“I AM THE INKPOT! ARE YOU THE PRINTER?”

I prepare to respond. Though I’m puzzled by what’s
put to me, to progress on my pilgrimage, I presume I must be positive.
But, just at the precise point when I open my own mouth, I’m interrupted:

“ARE YOU A PEASANT?”

Again I prepare to answer, but each time I’m stopped 
before the words can reach my tongue.

“ARE YOU A PILOT? ARE YOU A PIONEER? PROCLAIM!”,

I’m given no opportunity to do so.

“HAVE YOU A PARACHUTE?” and the lips part wider, opening 
to reveal a pit, into which, it appears,
I am expected to jump.

Reasoning that actions speak louder than words, I step up to the edge
of what was once a pond, is now a portal.
Now I am stood on the lip of the lips, and as it speaks it is the ground moving,
myself thrown violently back and forth with it.
I am at risk of being catapulted in involuntarily,
never mind leaping.

“ARE YOU POLLUTION? ARE YOU A PEST?”

Perversely, it’s only now, being propelled one way and then the other,
that the physics of the situation begin to play on my mind –
how deep is that pit? If this is a mouth,
will it lead to a belly?

As it exhales, I can smell the breath of rock,
the breath of mantle.
And, from somewhere in the most profound depths,
I can hear - something playing?

A piano?

“ARE YOU A POLICEMAN? WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE? ARE YOU PREJUDICED?”

I pull myself up to stand on the pink pillow of the lower lip.
Each tooth is as big as my whole body.

“ARE YOU PROVINCIAL?”

I haven’t a parachute.

I jump.



-------

I've been writing a poem for each letter of the alphabet. 

The letter 'P' is posited to have begun its life as a pictogram for a mouth.

The poems are a sequence, a journey, and you can read the first 15 instalments on the following links:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A

H

F