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Rags and Bones
Sorting through his things like a rag-picker
or the rags and bones man who’d give you a goldfish
in a jam-jar for the stuff you brought him,
I came across a card in his collection of sayings
and aphorisms, “Follow Your Heart,” which
I thought ironic since he died of a heart attack
after a diet including cold beef fat spread on bread
like butter, which still makes me worry
since I had to clean the plate and eat any fat I
cut off, “Money doesn’t grow on trees.”
He
never gave up trying to get the most
out of things, even on his death bed begging
the nurse for a hand job.
And as he lay with
light from stained glass falling over him
sailing through silky white billows as if
there was still something more, the coffin,
I thought, could just as well have been
a cradle. He’ll never die.
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Brian Swann’s most recent poetry collection is Imago (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2023), and his most recent prose is Ya-honk! Goes the Wild Gander (Mad Hat Press, 2023).
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Irving Penn. Rag and Bone Man, London,1950. Platinum palladium print, printed 1967
I look forward to SUNDAYS, reminding me of the great poets I read, and needed to see again. This is such a tough sweet poem-- a balance difficult to achieve, but Swann lives up to his name.
Once again, the visuals are startling finds.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | March 31, 2024 at 11:42 AM
No he'll never die! He lives on and on in this hard- eyed brilliant poem!
Posted by: Bill Nevins | March 31, 2024 at 11:46 AM
"Follow your heart" indeed. Whew. Tough and fine and unforgettable, as is the Irving Penn photo to illustrate it.
Posted by: Beth Joselow | March 31, 2024 at 01:11 PM
Admirable poem & Irving Penn photo. Thanks, Terence. . .and Mr. Swann.
Posted by: David Lehman | March 31, 2024 at 01:21 PM
Somehow this poem seems rather appropriate for this day…This Day of Light and Resurrection…Thanks Terence and Brian!
Posted by: Sr. Leslie | March 31, 2024 at 02:14 PM
David: Thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | March 31, 2024 at 02:51 PM
Leslie: thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | March 31, 2024 at 02:54 PM
Thank you, Terence.
Posted by: Jody | March 31, 2024 at 05:02 PM
Tough and great. The person represented, the poet, the venue. Slainte, all of yez.
Posted by: Clarinda | March 31, 2024 at 10:04 PM
Wonderful poem and artwork.
Posted by: Eileen Reich | April 01, 2024 at 01:25 PM
There is a strange optimism in this poem that heartened my day, Thank you, Brian & Terence!
Posted by: David Beaudouin | April 01, 2024 at 03:53 PM
Yes, we never lose our sexual desire, ever! Sexual desire is mystically linked to new life. Fine poem. Giving up still leaves us to hope.
Posted by: Richard Giannone | April 02, 2024 at 01:11 PM