Tuesday Poem: Flaubert’s Drum, by Sugu Pillay

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that harlequin tear again
its fall threatened in Keats’ time
her soapy slippery anguished palms
cup for the reflecting bell-jar
each drop
the world’s grammar
the Rosetta stone
plows wide furrows
meets with resistance
may or may not connect
never certain that it should
each known thing easily
becomes unknown
like that cracked kettle

of Flaubert’s

Credit note: This is the title poem of Sugu Pillay’s debut poetry collection Flaubert’s Drum, which has just been published by IP, who also published my collection Men Briefly Explained.

Tim says: Sugu and fellow poet Karen Zelas, with publisher and poet Dr David Reiter, are currently touring their new collections around New Zealand – look out for them at a poetry venue near you! I am looking forward to attending their Wellington launch event on Monday 3 September.

Watch out for my interview with Sugu Pillay, which should appear here on Thursday.

The Tuesday Poem: You can find links to this and all the other Tuesday Poems on the left of the Tuesday Poem blog, where you will also find the hub poem for the week.

You can buy books by Tim Jones online!

7 thoughts on “Tuesday Poem: Flaubert’s Drum, by Sugu Pillay”

  1. ok, codes (Mary's blog and mine)and enigmas (Mary's again) and rosetta stones – am I sensing a pattern this week? More seriously though – very cool poem – had to look stuff up though to understand a tiny part of it – and to eddicate myself ;)ps I am a robot these code cracker things are nigh impossible.

  2. So much condensed into such a small space. Reminded me of Dickinson as well as Flaubert. There is a great joy in something that refuses to fall into easy interpretation, I think.

  3. It is interesting how these patterns emerge – but then, we are the species that can see a face in anything, be it in the clouds or in photos of Martian mountains!I too am a robot. How splendid shall be our coming world domination!

  6. Congratulations Sugu on your first collection. It's such a joy to enjoy a poem without knowing whether one has understood. and a clue, for the poet says it herself…'each known thing becomes unknown'…Thanks for sharing, both.

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