Invention of poetry

by Graeme Bezanson

Graeme Bezanson is a Canadian writer living in France. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from BOMB, glitterMOB, Sixth Finch, PRISM international, The Malahat Review, and elsewhere.



As I helped the frowning, huge-headed
Mascot climb the parade float’s teetering breastwork
I kissed his knee. He laughed out loud
Through the black unmoving
Crescent that bisected his gigantic face
And then the planks gave way
And we both fell into vacancy

   The afternoon was reluctant, pressed into
   Participation, drawn in five minutes as if by
   Somebody’s disaffected teen. The weather was
   Sweltering hot and the mascot
   Must have been roasting I mean the guy
   In the mascot suit was probably feverish
   And as we pinwheeled through the shimmering
   Atmosphere I realized that I was continually aware of
   Both the man and the mascot but was unable to
   Separate them and even when we landed
    4000 years later
    In a prickly gorse bush
   They remained intact and overlapping
   Almost completely: I mean the man and the mascot were not
   Cleaved apart upon impact which maybe I had been
    Semi-expecting
    Mostly abstractly
   Wow I said out loud really vapidly
   And the man the mascot said nothing
   And at that exact moment the internet became important
   And suddenly we could see everything but still understood
    Almost nothing

And here is the part where you say
I know all this I have been told this already
And the man the mascot says ok maybe you have been told this
But not by me, not by me


Graeme Bezanson is a Canadian writer living in France. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from BOMB, glitterMOB, Sixth Finch, PRISM international, The Malahat Review, and elsewhere.

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