20170418

Bob Heman


from INFORMATION

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Moves the cart to the right so the penguins will have more room. Adds lines to indicate the direction they must travel. Uses a clock that is broken to represent speed.



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The map remains a story to them. They can enter it anywhere a road begins.



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In the poem the bear was shaped like a mailbox, the woman like a cup full of salt. In the poem the dirt spoke more quickly than they could understand. In the poem they were the dirt, the bear, the woman, but when they were opened the numbers that spilled out were different from what they had expected. They had no meaning that corresponded with any truth.



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Sometimes the turtle is a cat, and the umbrella a sack of corn.



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The story of the three pigs who brought the gifts of straw and wood and bricks to the baby wolf. The way this story changed every bear who heard it.



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At night the streets cross more frequently.



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The dance consisted of a room from which a head of cabbage or lettuce had been removed.



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Planes that fly backwards. Boats filled with water. Trains that are pulled by very large snails. Tigers that are outfitted with saddles. Machines that can only be explained by their wheels.



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The next time the red building was on the other side. The next time the word “thin” meant something else. The next time there was a woman where the lake had been.



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April was only an explanation if the distance had been reduced. The chair was only an explanation if the windows weighed too much.



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The stream that runs uphill does not have a face of its own. It laughs only because its fish laugh. It cries only when the woman begins to swim.



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Not every poem has a butterfly or a rose, or a man who must be taught how to sing. Sometimes machines have replaced the ocean, and the birds are made of paper. The road they follow is the only road they are allowed to see.



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The road was really two roads that ran in the same direction. One covered slightly more distance than the other, yet both were the same length.



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The allegory of the grape was no different than the allegory of the crayon. The distance the orange could cover depended only upon its circumference. Each time the man was described his dimensions were different.



Bob Heman has been writing prose poems seriously since 1973. He recently retired from a job in the library of a corporate law firm, and now spends most of his days constructing collages and poems.
 
 
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