I was reading this poem, “Trick Knee” by my friend Mary Biddinger which ran on Verse Daily last week, and at these last stanzas—
if not a hint of the remarkable.
Those cement blocks aren’t heavy
after all. I’ll save one for your
back. We’ll move them downstream
to where there’s no circulation.
Nothing left in the world to get down on.
thought of this crazy robot dog video I first saw on Kottke:
Every good poem, like this one, pulls into its orbit contents of the world, which includes the contents of mind, and this action constitutes a chief pleasure of poetry. The cement block throwing mechanical dancing dog is (I think) not the most significant associative event this poem ignited within me, only the one that best served the internet’s purposes.