Self-Portait as Seismorgraph
Dear Magnitude, I leave the how much
to you. Bereft of equation,
I'd rather logarithms lodged elsewhere-
there is no sensitivity in numbers,
only in effects. In the calm, let us speak
in effects: a ball drops
dragon's mouth-to-frog's mouth,
a pendulum swings on its knife-edge
pivot. I'd say the measurable
captivates more than the measurement
in any accident, but I am merely a mass
suspended. Set my pen
to drum, set my drum recording-
I am the instrument of your intensity
and you my more. If there
be foundation, I have found it
to be oscillating. If there be water,
it is something falling.
Be peak to my trough, be hand
fastened to my throat. Shake me
something fierce and I will be the figure
of what you did.
-Cecily Parks
About the Author
Cecily Parks poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Antioch Review, New England Review, Tin House, and Yale Review. Her chapbook Cold Work won the Poetry Society of America's New York Chapbook Fellowship in 2005.
