One shows me how to lie down in a field of clover. Another how to slip my hand under her Sunday skirt. Another how to kiss with a mouth full of blackberries. Another how to catch fireflies in jar after dark. Here is a stable with a single black mare And the proof of God’s…
Sandspit: Decomposed body found by a moose hunter; stone-frozen corpse surfaced in a thaw; worm found in an imported apple that still cultivates silk for all underwear. Gambell: That’s all statues by the bridge. Try deering on the south shore of Sound or the outermost escarpments of the Outer Range. Angoon: Game Brain. Maim Brain….
He opens the scullery door, and a sudden rush of wind, as raw as raw, brushes past him as he himself will brush past the stacks of straw that stood in earlier for Crow or Comanche tepees hung with scalps but tonight past muster, row upon row, for the foothills of the Alps. He opens…
“I will no longer shout that I am not Absorba the non- Greek in public places. It was only out of the catching enthusiasm of a real steakhouse atmosphere that I begged you to be my Jean d’Arkansas. We can live life without the constant encomium. “When I hear the sword of Zorro in the…
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.
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