In 1917, Wallace Stevens wrote a poem titled ‘Thirteen ways of looking at a Blackbird’. In 2004, The New Yorker published an piece by David Friend, titled “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackberry (With apologies to Wallace Stevens)”.
You can probably see where this is going…
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Snowboard
1. The snowboard stands in the corner, summer dust thickens.
2. Knife or broom, the snowboard is both, and yet neither.
3. The untenanted snowboard flees the falconers reaching grasp.
4. It takes nine parts to make a snowboard. Ten if you count the pronoun.
5. A breadbox is smaller than a snowboard.
6. The snowboard finds no joy in its movement.
7. The air is sharp with the quickening of snowfall. The snowboard is not in a hurry.
8. You can own many snowboards, but only one snowboard will own you.
9. A snowboard in motion is easily distracted by idle talk and will lose its way.
10. I know noble accents, and lucid, inescapable rhythms; but I know too that the snowboard is involved in what I know.
11. The snowboard with no moving parts is not rendered useless by your incapacity to understand its workings.
12. The actual value of a snowboard is measured in the past tense.
13. A chairlift is turning. A snowboard is flying.