Soft Targets

I have a golf swing I struggle mightily with.  But once in a while I’ll loft a ball softly near a distant pin at the driving range, and someone watching will say to me, “you have a really nice swing.”  I don’t like to look a gift horse in the mouth–but nice?  What’s nice about it?  I have a hundred things going on in my swing, six of which are useful and none repeatable.  During my swing I think a thousand things, and a thousand different things from swing to swing.  Which are the nice things?  Nice on the range but not on the course?  Nice today but not tomorrow?  Nice with a six iron but not with a comma?
That’s what I hate about golf.  Writing too.




July, 2014

Silence of iambs

(Prerecorded)

Tonight my mind is trapped in a sound-proof room,
thought-proof also, even golf-proof.
Golf-proof: not to be driven from my mind
(requiring a putt at best).
Sound-proof, except for the tinnitus:
the two discordant notes ignorant of sound-proofing,
immune to atom bombs and rock and roll,
disrespectful of rest, faithless to comas,
resistant to poetry, and persistent to death
(though I hope not).
Thought-proof: now, certainly.

 

Jan. 27, 2013