Thursday, November 23, 2006

synaesthesia

a found poem

Capital A will be tinged red
5 plus 2 will equal blue

One subject hates driving
Because road signs
Flood his mouth
With flavors of pistachio ice cream
And earwax

Another, hearing "castanets",
Will taste tuna fish

They cannot say why
There is no madeleine moment
The flavors just come

"Civil" to gravy
"City" to mince pie
"Confess" to coffee


Found in « For Rare Few, Taste is in the Ear of the Beholder » in this morning's New York Times.

I wonder what "synaesthesia" tastes like?

3 comments:

mrtn said...

Tastes a little like John Coltrane.

Anonymous said...

nice poem. i shared it with my class.

-&ru

suttonhoo said...

so cool, mgl.

thanks, &ru -- what's the class?

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