Log Jam
<>
water frozen
are logs jammed
like iron fists
like parts of one
like time
<>
one spar digging
blunting steely hook on ice,
chipping away tiny sparks
flying large through the air;
landing to rejoin
only a few feet away
<>
we must move the logs
we must move them downstream
the mill blade is hungry
the sun longs to be set free
<>
two spars, now three;
the mean awakened from
thick jointed dreams;
steam plotted revenge,
now a thousand all chipping
clattering in the league air,
each salty bead of sweat
freezing into thicker traps
<>
one, free, now two,
no hope for the others, yet;
the clear rive water
lapping blood
into fresh gashes;
three free, now four,
No more. No more!
<>
one spar stuck
one boot-hold lost
one boot-filler lost,
slipped into the ice
as repayment;
face up-turned
tugged
tossed under the shell
<>
we must move the logs
we must move them downstream
the mill bade is hungry
the corpse longs to be set free
Jan 72
I wanted this piece to be stuck in the middle of the collection. It’s another one with a strong narrative line, easy to understand even without the subtext of being trapped under the ice of a life one didn’t expect to be frozen into. It’s also another piece of testosterone driven masculinity. The return of ‘the muscle-rippled holder of that chainsaw’ only now he’s dealing with the results of his labours.
No, I have never been a lumberjack – nor have I moved logs down stream. I didn’t do any research on log jams for this, nor did I study things trapped in the ice. So I’m not writing about what I know in an experiential sense. But no one has said ‘you got this all wrong.’ I was deliberately working with Canadiana forest tropes as a way of chasing loose the abstract content of the other pieces.
I enjoy how the story unfolds with the hard work of ice-bound logs, how the number of men increases, the sound of chipping increases, the harness of the ice, the persistence of the loggers as they overcome the jam. The foreshadowing of water being like ‘blood/fresh gashes.’ Then the cost of industry when one of them falls under. There is no rescue attempt.
There is also the movement in the two repeated verses, almost like a song chorus, that changes from ‘sun’ to ‘corpse.’ It is a great piece to perform, as is ‘Woodsman’, & would usual pair them.
I do have a limited number of the original Distant Music chapbook for sale for $25.00 each (includes surface mail postage). Send via paypal along with where to send it. paypal.me/TOpoet
TOpoet 
Thought-provoking wonders!