Sunday, April 25, 2010

Devotion by Scott Urban

If I were a pillbug, I would still love you.
I would live inside the walls of your house.
I would polish the segments of my carapace
until they shone like a new, miniature Volkswagen.
I would bring all of my five thousand six hundred
eighty nine friends out beneath the floorboards
to show off the beauty I have found in you.
I would curl up into a tiny gray knot of ecstasy
even as you bring down your sole on me.


Joe said...

Devotion that rises above who we are or the circumstances that revolve around our lives.

Beautifully written Scott

David said...

Great work, Scott. In its swath the cleaver through tiny space opens tendon/marrow with quiet melody.

Anonymous said...

Scott tells my tale, and yours.

Again, not just as another passionate lover, Scott Urban abstracts his wolfish devotion to the act of poetry-- emoting as if his tiny song wasn't the thunderous slap of quadrillion lightening strikes over a tebibyte of sequential years; from the finite "mote-like" living of myriad artists dedicating short, but glorious moments, Scott Urban shows we're all a silent swarm of flashing fireflies one warm summer day's sweet ending.

Indeed time-wise, the closer you are, the love of devotion remains a many splendored thing, and inspired chase-- but the farther your drift, appearance rusts from dessicated husk to fading skid-mark.

-- the original j.e.w.