Is that some form of celtic haiku?
BB
LOL
Images of 002 carefully inscribing his wise words onto rice paper with a brush and ink.
To Stafford? But is there a sense of the unknown? That exclamation mark tells us that 'Stafford' is very much a known place, within all of us is the dread of going to 'Stafford', the exclamation is an acknowledgement of the collective. It is inclusive.
So with this in mind the second line, although appearing to pursue a single person narrative, palpably indicates that Jethro feels we are all in need of thereapy. Note the clever introduction of the word 'autojumble' as he subtly introduces the Haiku's metaphoric backbone. Whilst striving after a metaphysical truth he also constructs a mechanical frame for the poem. This is made more explicit in the third line.
Whilst a naive reader might read this as a literal description of a desire to repair a motorcyle, we can plainly see that the 'bits' are the essentials of pyschic stability: self-awareness, contentment and knowledge. So, to extend this amusing automotive motif, the poet feels that he is on the road for hell unless he can rebuild his spiritual vehicle. With the vehicle rebuilt he can escape his fate (he can outrun that loaded exclamation mark!). But again there is a hint of unease. The choice of a germanic vehicle indicates the inherent paradox of his argument. The end result will be ordered, efficient and desirable, but at the same time it will lack flair, imagination and passion, all things that are evident in the poet's current state.
But then we see the cause of this wrong turn on the dual carriageway of life. There has been an ending of a relationship. This is the crux of the paradox: the need to move on combined with a regret for change. Oh the majestic sense of loss of that last line "The Divi and chair have been sold", a statement that answers nothing but asks the eternal question, leaving the reader to ponder the loss of their own 'divi' and their own 'chair'. For some it talks of the failed affair, for others the inconsolable regret of not having done the right thing. For me it raised memories of a lost moment in a punt on the Cam, with a fellow poet, reciting T S Elliot yet not saying what we meant, oh yes! my chair too has been sold! My Divi has gone!.
GC
