Flat-Pack Poetry: Some Self-Assembly Required
Now let us see…this might take some time,
patience helps with these constructions:
unpack the box with calm sublime,
carefully read the enclosed instructions.
Please check the contents of this poem:
‘What’ x 13
‘Tiger’ x 4
‘Dare’ x 4
‘Hand’ x 4
‘Eye’ x 3
‘Heart’ x 2
‘Dread’ x 2
‘Fire’ x 2
‘Burning’ x 2
‘Bright’ x 2
‘Forests’ x 2
‘Immortal’ x 2
‘Frame’ x 2
‘Fearful’ x 2
‘Symmetry’ x 2
Sundry words x 1 each
Question marks x 15
Commas x 7
Verses x 6
Line-breaks x 24
Ok, all’s present and correct,
so it’s unto the breach again,
my heart and hands must now direct
the Allen Key of my brain.
Ensure that the poem lies flat on a sheet of plain white paper (not supplied).
Assemble verses one and six first in order to support verses two to five.
Affix the question marks and commas loosely at first, but remember to tighten fully when assembly is complete.
Phew! Hours have passed but I think it’s done,
I’m too tired to be pernickety,
I’m telling myself it’s a battle won
but it sure does look a little rickety.
Tiger, Tiger, burning bright
in the sinews of the night,
what immortal lamb or eye
could frame thy distant symmetry?
In what fearful wings or skies
burnt the anvil of thine eyes?
On what deeps dare he aspire?
What the hand dare twist the fire?
And what terrors and what art
could seize the forests of thy heart?
And when thy stars began to beat,
what dread smile? And what dread feet?
What the furnace? What the brain?
In what hammer was thy chain?
What the fire? What dead grasp
dare its dreadly shoulders clasp?
When the wings threw down their spears
And watered Heaven with their tears,
did he work his hand to see?
Did he who made the dare make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
in the sinews of the night,
what immortal lamb or eye
could frame thy distant symmetry?
Perhaps this was not such a bright idea,
under close scrutiny this poem will break,
so it’s down to the Yellow Pages, fuck Ikea,
it’s time to call out William Blake.