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Jeffrey Skinner
POETRY
 

Theory of Escape from the Old Country

 

Thank god I can’t be arrested for what’s inside.  
The night here in Oslo is useless for threshing.  
All children must leave their dolls at the guard house.  
Many buildings come to resemble their tenants.  

When I raise my voice it lowers my eyes.  
Bowling is a sport by default.  Niles will not make a rest stop
until 500 kilometers!  How tall, the rain in these parts.  
Grandfather, grandfather, screamed Heidi.
 
Numismatics is the science of flung metal.  
When I raise my hand it hurts the crops. While we dream,
the horses make plans.  Something of the art
of our country was killed in that sledding accident.  

We are very good at lens craft, nevertheless.   
How shallow the wind in this valley.  We shall go to the library,
then later a film.  You must sit still, and laugh for health.  
However, the idea that nothing exists.

I think you will take part in the Olympics.  
How lost the snow to this mountain.  Greta
will never leave home.  All the trees are connected below us.  
Even the wood of the house can hear us breathe.        

 


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