Forgotten Ground Regained
Catching Loopy
This poem is in Norse skaldic fornyrðislag meter.
Upon the torrent, and plunging downthe loose cataract, laughing under water,mistletoe splinters in spoiler’s thumb,landing, thump, in the throng of currents,
lifeless-like, limbs akimbo,just as a god juddered to the groundin a gang of gods, gone to slumber,spent and spilt, spluttering, I lie.
Saw them looking, left the house,left the ashes, easy to see,of knotted string, net to catcha salmon in, someone must know –
Fermented-one, fool to none,Lost-to-drink dredges the fireplace,knits the links, lines of ember kindled to a quick –kitted now
with the means I give – great as they are,no one catches cunning Lokiwithout his say-so – salmon-trawlingThunder's wet and whiffs of fish!
Copyright © Math Jones, 2002
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