Hope

It has travelled on a torn piece of yellow sticky whose glue is no longer effective. It was found tucked under a paper clip in a gathering of similar short sequences that might be suitable to incorporate into some longer poem. It is composed of an invented compound word followed on a separate line by the name of a game . . .

handtouch
hopscotch

. . . in a retroactive sense the game informs the nature of the touching: it's not an even smooth caress but more like a hop, skip and a jump: the exploratory prelude to a smooth glide over skin (or being swotted away).

I juxtapose here thoughts on "H". It has struck me that the fascination with the letter "H" in the poetry of bp Nichol may be connected to his use of the MacIntosh computer (his machine is now housed at Simon Fraser University) for on that machine in the classic simple text application Command+H triggers the voice synthesis that produces a reading of the text.

and touch
op scotch

:)

And so for day 443
29.02.2008