2 | "In the school of disquietude" [pantoum]

In the school of disquietude I dawdled
on the pad of my diary I doodled
from the hilltop of history I yodeled
by the Nile of negativity I noodled
on the pad of my diary I doodled
my utterance seemed utterly banal
by the Nile of negativity I noodled
the spaghetti proved scrumptious withal

my utterance seemed utterly banal
I awoke in a land far away
the spaghetti proved scrumptious withal
I suppose it was not Montpellier
I awoke in a land far away
but it must have been merely a dream
I suppose it was not Montpellier
things rarely are quite as they seem

but it must have been merely a dream
the street was arranged as a vine
things rarely are quite as they seem
there's solace in a thimble of wine
the street was arranged as a vine
the nude artful nakedness modelled
there's solace in a thimble of wine
in the school of disquietude I dawdled



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Responsive to K. Silem Mohammad's essay, Notes on (Dis)quietude and the "Post-Avant", including this passage:

Certainly there are historical moments, or just particular times of day, when it seems more or less advisable to shout or whisper, depending. It is only when quietude is adopted as an all-governing aesthetic that it takes on its more oppressive dimensions. Likewise, disquietude in isolation not only becomes exhausting, it loses its meaning in the absence of the quietude it disrupts. Poetry can never be only about beauty, nor can it be only about the absence of beauty.

This poem is no. 2 in a new sequence, Early Autumn Pantoums.