Me and my neighbor Frank Main used to get along real good till the dog thing. We got two kids each, only a year apart in school, and his wife and my wife take turns sometimes driving carpool. I took his mail in every day for two weeks while they had their vacation, and once…
The stars are filtering through a tree outside in the moon’s silent era. Reality is moving layer over layer like crystal spheres now called laws. The future is right behind your head; just over all horizons is the past. The soul sits looking at its offer.
34. How could desire outrun satisfaction? Who is constantly solicited, never satisfied, driven, forced to it, forced to instruct: an albatross at his neck, provocative bird, for aimless years above his conquering ship, on motionless wings, before it lit—or would have lit—on Ramirez Island where it had taken off. An albatross mates for life and…
After seven days of round-the-clock jackhammers and hot-tempered chisels, the bones surrendered. The hands, which were to be sent to watchmakers, kicked up, incessantly pantomiming. The feet were toenailed onto sunflower stems; both sent, heads bowed, captive, to Diaghilev. Since there was so little heart there to speak of, the cavity stored C-clamps and wisps…
Simple isn’t it? The way a fugue begins— a voice alone, another, then another— a mass of math and tangle, tumble, flash! stretto . . . Finally solo even dotted God with stars moves out. Nothing moves in.
You’ll find him listed under King, as in— Kong, brought back in chains, Kong on tour with Ringling Bros. see also: colossal metaphor, projected fear, reading Marcus Garvey and Du Bois. Photos on the wall: the early years— Kong in love, that boyish thatch of hair, Kong awry, gone off with our young…
i. The wind sings too, but only of itself, leaving a valley between mountains in a landscape that will never become real to us. And it is true we can no longer really know this land, isn’t it? Only move through its casseroled orchards, vineyards and sunflower farms in mindful proximity to all that it…
The beds are long the brine is deep in which I press my thoughts to sleep of all that I should not have said or done or learned I mourn the head that held the hymn if shy if dim if unobtrusive Then salt then chest Then palm then less The lies that made me…
The sum of things is the least of things. The dwarf loved the sovereign’s daughter repeatedly: at first, every morning, then he added on noon, then the army honed in like a giant umbrella. She was carried away like a dark subject until all that she felt and could not say hung like a nightworld…
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