I love prose poetry. Our expectations are set very differently. Like flash fiction, we expect to be taken to the centre of an event very quickly. Unlike flash, in which we give room for unfinished moments being displayed, and short stories, where we demand something similar to a beginning middle and end, prose poetry has the freedom not be an articulation of singular ideas and images with narrative being built in the joining tissue between the singular images.
Like these two pieces by Carsten René Nielsen (translated by David Keplinger) in Copper Nickel
The first mixes violence and history together, with the mention of the Grauballe man (the celebrity murdered bog chap) whose death is linked to human sacrifice, the arming of children and the sense of ritual. It suggests the inescapable link of ritual and violence throughout history, and the way that leaning on ritual leads to more violence.
Pillow, the second piece, on the other hand seems to be an exploration of the ways two people can interpret the same situation. There is a coy link between the pillows and clouds, and the play between this and the link again to sleep and dreams explores the way we reset but don’t forget the interpretations that differ in our relationships. The exchange of the world between two people, and the layering of how they see it together, and the mismatched parts between them is where the fun of life is, a little like these prose poems.
Thanks for reading Etch To Their Own. It was written by @CJEggett a bit later than he expect on a subject he didn’t intend. Sorry for another short one this week, I didn’t quite get through the really quite excellent Mothlight — which has been reminding me of little bit of lovecraft in some ways. As always, if you have a question or request, @ me or reply to this email. If you have a friend who you think deserves this kind of nonsense in their inbox, please get them to sign up here.