by Tricia Bogle
I dreamed of telling of an idea—
An idea thwarted, actually, because in the dream,
the idea was of rope,
and as I explained to my listener,
we had no rope.
We used to, but it was gone.
And the idea was an old one anyway.
I explained this, lingering on the non-problem
of the now-gone rope,
describing its coil—
like a belt curled in a suitcase,
but stretchy, multicolored,
vibrant as a bungee cord
that pulls you back,
or lashes you to a car for travel.
I explained that I knew this idea was a bad one,
and not only because a stretchy rope
wouldn’t work well for the described purpose.
Rope must be tight to get that job done.
My listener panicked, picked up a phone
to call authorities—anyone with power
to commit me for an idea
I wasn’t committed to.
And with that, the force of the State
pierced my dream,
drove in the wedge
Because even a dream
of telling of an old idea
Even a poem
is a tightrope.
Tricia Bogle (she/her) is a Missouri-born, NYC-based poet. She holds a B.A. in Creative Writing & Philosophy (Loyola Baltimore), an M.A. in Political Theory, and a Ph.D. in Philosophy (Fordham). Her work has been featured in Passengers Journal, Cagibi, South Dakota Review, Chautauqua, and Pine Row. Her ekphrastic poetry exhibit, In a Garden of Small Dreams: Art + Poetry in Conversation (with digital artist Shu Tu), is currently on display at the New York Public Library, Hamilton Grange, through September 15, 2023.
Photo by Alex wolf mx on Pexels.com.
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