This sonnet by Mike Alexander is not eligible to win the Bakeoff (it's just been published in an anthology, in April). I really love it, however, so have decided to abuse my position as Bakeoff Host to post it here. (Don't blame Mike; this was all my idea.) It won't be included in the official twelve. I'm merely posting it because I think (1) it deserves to be read; and (2) there are people who need to read it. (And if all this is so confusing and annoying that I'm never asked to host another Bakeoff, well, then, my plan is working.)
the sirens answer
You filled your ears with sealing wax, sailed
within an inch of transcendental song,
a glory coveted as one among
the numbered wonders of the sea: fish-tailed,
we bared our human breasts as we regaled
your vessel with our singing, singing long
through your prosaic skulls. You did us wrong
to claim in your accounts our shanties failed.
Although you dulled our melodies to keep
what arguments you treasured most intact,
our musicking is subtler & deep
enough to wash away the dregs of fact--
we sing your darkest voyage as you sleep,
until you wake, eyes leaking, voices cracked.
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I bet Mark Allinson will like this one as much as I do. Not just because it's mythical and evocative and Petrarchan and all that good stuff, but because it's also an ars poetica of sorts, and it relates to one of his favorite soapbox issues. Poetry workshops seem to attract a lot of literal-minded folk, and some of the nitpicking that goes on can be rather point-missing. I'm not exempting myself; as a former technical writer, I'm one of those who occasionally need reminding that reason isn't everything, that poetry can work on a subconscious level, and everything need not be spelled out as in a legal document or computer manual.
Of course, that's just one possible interpretation of this poem. There are others that work equally well, which is nice; and which, in a way, brings me back to my original interpretation.
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