“Any
fool can get into an ocean . . .”
BY JACK SPICER 1925–1965
Any
fool can get into an ocean
But it
takes a Goddess
To get
out of one.
What’s
true of oceans is true, of course,
Of
labyrinths and poems. When you start swimming
Through
riptide of rhythms and the metaphor’s seaweed
You
need to be a good swimmer or a born Goddess
To get
back out of them
Look
at the sea otters bobbing wildly
Out in
the middle of the poem
They
look so eager and peaceful playing out there where the
water hardly moves
You
might get out through all the waves and rocks
Into
the middle of the poem to touch them
But
when you’ve tried the blessed water long
Enough
to want to start backward
That’s
when the fun starts
Unless
you’re a poet or an otter or something supernatural
You’ll
drown, dear. You’ll drown
Any
Greek can get you into a labyrinth
But it
takes a hero to get out of one
What’s
true of labyrinths is true of course
Of
love and memory. When you start remembering.
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