A poem I don't understand
I like this about having written poetry for thirty years: I can go back to old notebooks or old electronic files and find things I wrote that I don't now understand. I can see me in there, but I can't recall what I meant. So the poem must stand on its own. I assume, then that this poem from seven years ago was actually from a dream. If it makes sense to you, explain it to me. "Noodle prophecy from a dream" Sensible custom says that when the emperor offers you a noodle from his priceless bowl of udon, bow your deep gratitude--and refuse. His servant will offer noodles to everyone. All will bow, smile, bow, refuse. The emperor, one day soon, will need to fight for udon, defend each sesame seed from huns and djinis and dragons, protect our right to eat soba with smoked trout with his considerable armies and all his myth. But what if, tourist that I am, I accept the noodle? What if I suck it from the chopsticks the ser...