Calisthenics: Syntax Mimicry

Original poem:

A Romance
Stephen Dunn

He called eel grass
what she called seaweed.
He insulated their house with it.
She was interested in
the transparence of her skin.
He walled the bathroom
with barn-siding, he built the couch
with wood he had chopped.
She, a friend once said,
was a calligrapher of the dark.
He dug a root cellar
to store vegetables. He built a shack
for his ducks. Once, while asleep,
he said "the half-shut eye of the moon."
She spoke about the possible
precision of doubt.
He knew when the wind changed
what weather it would bring.

She baked bread, made jam
from sugar berries, kept a notebook
with what she called
little collections of her breath.
He said the angle the nail goes in
is crucial.
 She fed the ducks, called them
her sentient beings.
She wondered how one becomes
a casualty of desire.
He said a tin roof in summer
sends back the sun's heat.
She made wine from dandelions.
She once wrote in her notebook
"the ordinary loveliness of the world."
He built a bookcase
for her books.
They took long walks.


Edited poem:


He trafficked technicolor childhoods--
what she termed magic crust.
He brushed their chalky sidewalk with it.
She was wavering in
the parlance of her townsfolk.
He stroked the rotary-dial telephones
with pages of Nancy Drew, he painted the Huffy
with bottle caps he had kept.
She, a mother once declared,
was a cartographer of the bed's underside.
He soaked a russet potato
to generate current. He tore a construction paper heart
for his collection. Once, while drinking,
he said "the forgotten gift of the squeaking bird."
She droned about the copper
memory of dog-day vacations.
He wondered when the window shuddered open
what new curtain patterns it would display.

She cradled marbles, made swans
from widerule looseleaf, kept a secret
with what she called
pink-eyed contortions of her tongue.
He said the box the X goes in
is yes.
She swung the hammocks, called them
her faked flights.
She bit back how one arranges
a payment of lunchboxes.
He said a broken molar in a jewelry box
grabs back the fairy's myth.
She made braids from clovers.
She once scribbled in her margins
"the bellicose peaceniks of the suburbs."
He kicked a baseball
for her laughter.
They lipped plastic straws.