{"id":12936,"date":"2025-07-04T13:50:51","date_gmt":"2025-07-04T12:50:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12936"},"modified":"2025-12-20T13:16:08","modified_gmt":"2025-12-20T12:16:08","slug":"3-poems-17","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12936","title":{"rendered":"3 poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"
Image: \u00a9 Courtesy of Manchester City Galleries<\/span><\/p>\n

Happy Fat Brown Puppy<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

After Utagawa Hiroshige\u2019s woodblock print:
<\/em>Ushimachi in the Takanawa District<\/em><\/p>\n

About this view by Utagawa H \u2013\u00a0
who else would set an oxcart wheel
eye-level, and so in your face
the uncrossable distance of art
seems semi-zero?
Or persuade a fading rainbow\u2019s curve
to follow the rim of the wheel
on a background of sky and sea
with the shadow water along the wharf
as nineteenth century as death?
Who else would filter your gaze
through the spokes of the wheel
to the bare masts of the fishing fleet inshore?
Or send forth little sails as hopefully blank
as childish love notes never written?
Was it crucial, by the wheel to include
two dogs, one brown, one white, convincingly
whiskered and tailed, with happy fat brown puppy
dragging a straw boot by its lace?
Of course. And don\u2019t say dogs can\u2019t smile.
Look \u2013 bright offcuts from the arc above \u2013
pink-slicked watermelon rinds.\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A Picnic on the Bridge<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

After Utagawa Hiroshige\u2019s woodblock print:
<\/em>Massaki and the Suijin-no mori Shrine on the Sumidagawa<\/em><\/p>\n

On the Pont des Arts at dusk
just after 9\/11:
five or six groups of strangers
sprawled or leaning or pacing
are calling across to each other, passing cheap wine
somewhere a guitar, when Ely May from Baltimore says
\u2018I love my country, Jan, but it\u2019s a wicked country.\u2019
His utterance surfaces twenty-five years on
like a corpse in the Seine at dawn
as cartoon creatures in Ely\u2019s land
tout their ration of power, swagger and lies
a Mammon and Moloch two-step
in time to the beat of fear:
destroy, devour, destroy.
Shall the world be saved by beauty
as Dostoevsky wrote?
Regard these sprigs of gentlest pink
the froth and frill of yuezakura\u2019s
double blossoms almost in reach
and the ease of a river with boats and a barge
between two peaceful shores.
On this side, the Shrine, Grove of the Water God
on the other, twin-peaked Tsukuba\u2019s
supplication to heaven.
Nearest to us on the purple path
six figures are walking for ever.
Heart space. Solace. And yet \u2026\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A Chipped Bowl<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

After Utagawa Hiroshige\u2019s woodblock print:
<\/em>Grandpa\u2019s Teahouse in Meguro<\/em><\/p>\n

Three pines top the slope
to the small thatched teahouse.
Grandpa\u2019s outside chatting up
the flirting fans, flick flack
<\/em>(hot for the season).
The older woman is pointing right
but nobody\u2019s looking.
Grandma is busy inside
muttering, clattering, plotting
a teahouse of her own
uphill with a better view.
She tightens her lips and, click clack
<\/em>chips a bowl. Which shall go
to Miss Pouty Lips.
Across the dull gold
plain below, a traveller
leads his laden horse<\/p>\n

like a failed haiku
(par for the course)
with a swarm, a host, no
a herd of horseflies
piquing his sweaty hide. Possibly.
Issa would know.
It\u2019s enough to make you itch.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

____<\/p>\n

Jan Owen<\/strong> is a South Australian with nine books of poetry published including a New and Selected, The Offhand Angel, published by Eyewear, and a volume of translations from Baudelaire\u2019s Les Fleurs du Mal, published by Arc Publications in 2015. Her awards include the Philip Hodgins Memorial Medal and the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize. Several of her poems are included on the Poetry Archive and Poetry Foundation websites. She is currently completing a manuscript of poems, This Fleeting World, based on Hiroshige\u2019s art.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Image: \u00a9 Courtesy of Manchester City Galleries Happy Fat Brown Puppy After Utagawa Hiroshige\u2019s woodblock print:Ushimachi in the Takanawa District About this view by Utagawa H \u2013\u00a0 who else would set an oxcart wheeleye-level, and so in your facethe uncrossable distance of artseems semi-zero?Or persuade a fading rainbow\u2019s curveto follow the rim of the wheelon […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":399,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[432,433],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n3 poems - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12936\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"3 poems - 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