Tag & North
by Alex Pryce
[ poetry - december 08 ]
Tag
Stolen from paper, a scribble is attached to the wall
and does not wish to depart. Determined as anchors,
silent artists are signing my brick canvas by night.
I unknowingly curate while my property is
facilitating the hooded local futurists.
I watch them gather by the streetlight, then cat-like, tag
to tell me they are here. In the morning I inspect,
respect that longing to make a mark, leave something here.
North
Trying to explain the difference between
'The North' and 'Northern', I find you too literal.
Smugly showing me the syllables are the same.
I am insistent; their indication is not.
You maintain that they are geographically
equivalent, equidistant, pointing to a
magnet, failing to grasp how I have witnessed words
making borders. Even spelling separates, h.
Naming home is tearing the map. You cannot tell
how utterances divide, placing us poles apart.
