KEVIN YOUNG'S POEM, “Song of Smoke” from his third book Jelly Roll: A Blues, takes off with the pronouncement that “To watch you walk / cross the room in your black // corduroys is to see / civilization start—” The sound of that “strut is flint / striking rock,” igniting the fire that spreads through the rest of these short lines with their sharp, hairpin turns. Like the speaker here, I’m no Boy Scout in the face of such flames. We’re both grateful somehow to be almost completely consumed by them even when the flames “threaten” to “burn all // this down.” Here we have danger, vulnerability, and surrender—everything needed for passionate love.
— Sean Hill
Kevin Young, "Song of Smoke"
To watch you walk
cross the room in your black
corduroys is to see
civilization start—
the wish-
whisk-whisk
of your strut is flint
striking rock—the spark
of a length of cord
rubbed till
smoke starts—you stir
me like coal
and for days smoulder.
I am no more
a Boy Scout and, besides,
could never
put you out—you
keep me on
all day like an iron, out
of habit—
you threaten, brick-
house, to burn
all this down. You leave me
only a chimney.
LARB Contributor
Sean Hill is the author of two poetry collections, Blood Ties & Brown Liquor (UGA Press, 2008) and Dangerous Goods, which is forthcoming from Milkweed Editions in early 2014. More information can be found at www.seanhillpoetry.com.
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