Finally, stability. Finally, the fractal iteration of kings. The legless herds lie still in the fields and eventually the fences crumble and the wilderness returns. Like cinnamon coaxed back out of the tongue, this book is a formalist approach for a kiss. Or vice versa. Like a kiss is oblivious, they don’t know their homestead is meat; is meat in an age of eternal iteration. Finally I have met you in this video of cyborgs making out, making out with androids in the comments below.
About this Poem
“There's a drawing by Natasha Allegri, one of the artists behind Adventure Time, of an anime schoolgirl with her bag thrown carelessly over her shoulder, big eyes gleaming, a hopeful, wondering smile, and crystals jutting from her limbs and side and forehead and black ooze splashing out with them. I've been thinking a lot about the marriage of animal and mineral; CAFOs, GMOs, Google Glass, psychoactives, the terraforming of the world via civilization, the organization of matter into life, death. ‘Clonazepam’ is one of a headdress of sonnets, a mutation of the sonnet crown, in which the poems are related not by bookended lines, but by themes, phrases, patterns of associations, and modifications to the mechanical and spiritual expectations of the sonnet form.”
Donald Dunbar is the author of Eyelid Lick (Fence Books, 2012), winner of the 2012 Fence Modern Poets book prize. He received his BA at the University of Wisconsin and his MFA in creative writing at Arizona State University. He is a general education instructor at Oregon Culinary Institute and cocurator of the reading series If Not For Kidnap. Dunbar lives in Portland, Oregon.
Date Published: 2014-01-28
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/clonazepam