A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
In Kuuk Thaayorre there is no left or right.
For people there, direction is not relative;
instead, they view the world in absolutes:
the sun and moon and stars are their imperatives.
For people there, direction is not relative;
things are north or south or east or west.
The sun and moon and stars are their imperatives,
as scholars learned when they devised this test.
If things are north or south or east or west,
when laying pictures out in time sequence—
as scholars learned, when they devised this test—
the way the subjects face will make a difference.
When laying pictures out in time sequence
and facing south, they place them east to west.
The way the subjects face will make a difference—
when facing north, they place them right to left.
When facing south they place them east to west—
though westerners would call this “left to right,”
and facing north they place them right to left,
which still in fact would be from east to west.
Though westerners would call this “left to right,”
we’d be amazed to learn when they face east,
they still in fact will place them east to west,
though westerners don’t get this in the least.
We’d be amazed to learn when they face east,
the pictures go what we’d call “top to bottom.”
Though westerners don’t get this in the least,
in Kuuk Thaayorre it fits an inner wisdom.
The pictures go what we’d call “top to bottom”
because they view the world in absolutes.
In Kuuk Thaayorre this fits an inner wisdom.
In Kuuk Thaayorre there is no left or right.
Joan Moritz, a Seattle poet, used to write fiction and creative nonfiction. She also used to think poets should dispense with their rhymes and other tricks and just get to the point. She doesn’t think that way anymore, and now devotes herself exclusively to poetry. Her poems have appeared in Drash: Northwest Mosaic.