Bloom Room explained

This poem is entirely Bina's fault. She introduced me to the Icelandic poetic 
style known as "kennings" (like metaphors, only stronger- more like images 
that conjur up a particular thought, so a roiling sea would actually be a battle, 
and everybody would know this) and to Patricia McKillip, a writer who uses 
such things quite well. The result was this very weird poem. Bina has one 
written shortly thereafter about the first day of fall- it's much better, so ask 
her to let you see it.

There is simply no explaining this poem. Therefore, I will simply explain the 
more unusual kennings/metaphors, and the rest I leave as an excercise for 
the reader.

Stanza one: English is a very weird language. Most of our weird spellings 
(such as the words ghost, racial, through, and light) are leftovers from 
German or French, but even though they are "silent", they still exist as 
half-formed sounds without any breath behind them. They are more a 
mouth-shape than anything else. Say the words "through" and "thru" out 
loud to yourself. Hear the difference?

Stanza two: Sky blinks its eye. Obviously, night descends.

Stanza three: Hair and teeth. Poppies are traditional metaphors for sleep- 
remember your OZ books? Finch- wings are eyelashes.

Stanza four: Vines and branches are human limbs and fingers and stuff. 
Sleep is a traditional "little death," so "swathed in black" could be 
unpoetically described as "wearing a black nightgown."

Stanza five: When you get really tired, have you ever felt like everything's 
heavy and it's hard to breathe, just like being underwater? The ink is the 
blueness of night shadows. The tiger is my cat- yes, she's pretentious.

Stanza six: The street-lamp is the moon, rising from East to West, the 
opposite of overall weather direction in the U.S. The lines are from ye olde 
standard falling-apart Venetian blinds.

Stanza seven: Falling flyers is a reference to a Bina poem. Box is the shape 
of the room.

Stanza nine: The ocean is sleep. Finally.