Friday, 10 April 2020

TERRIBLE LIZARDS


These ferocious chaps are supposed to be Iguanodons. You can find them in Crystal Palace in London.  They were constructed in 1852/5 for the Great Exhibition. Sadly they are now in need of repair
Dinosaurs were named by Robert Owen in 1842 and the name means "terrible lizard." In those days all dinosaurs were imagined as large, lumbering lizards, cold blooded and not the sleek, feathered wonders we know of today. 
When these models were made they thought the thumb spur was a horn on their nose. 
I mention all of this as background to the following poem.
It arises from a prompt from those wonderful people at #iamallstories. The prompt asked me to cut a poem in half and complete either half. I chose to cut the poem vertically and see what I could do with it. You can read the original here. I was never happy with it.
Dissected it looked like this:



A car with                                  one headlight,
the near                                     near side,
fitful, flickering                           at best.
Unexpectedly butterfingered      when it came to love,
dyspraxic                                                       even,
he dropped                                 dropped hearts.
Women remained an                    irrelevance to him,
men fared                                       no better,
a human                                                solvent
he sundered                                      ties expediently,
so the path of his life                was strewn with debris,
disgruntled                                        ex-lovers,
metaphorical corpses with too      real knives in their backs.
But how he                                         he can talk,
silver haired,                                        silver tongued
dangerous.                                             Dangerous.
An iguana basking                            in the flash light glare.



Upon reflection I came up with this:


A car with the doors open
the nearside indicator’s
fitful flickering winds down the battery
unexpectedly butterfingered, self conscious,
he dropped his act.
Women remained a mystery,
men fared worse.
A human cold fish
he sundered all ties
and the trajectory of his life
came down to a big car
nowhere to go and no one to go with.


Which is ok but nothing special. 
However the iguana set me thinking of dinosaurs which in turn led to this:


Crystal Palace Blues

unexpectedly an iguanodon
take in its botched anatomy
how it sadly sheds its concrete skin
nothing that ever lived looked like this
truly it is a terrible lizard


I think it works, but you need to know what dinosaur means to get the payoff.
This is what I've been doing all week and listening to music. 
Here is Laura Nyro.



Until next time.

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