You, last love,
must rest your head here
between me & the red lights
clanging high on the horizon
lest we do the unthinkable
& crash into all that lavender jazz
swarming behind the world.
when for a brief moment it is gone
now the unremarkable house two blocks northeast
burns the average color of candycorn
and by average color you mean something simple
but technical perhaps a bit too specific. no!
you mean to say what you mean to say
this is fundamental you can see the subject out your window
out beyond all that eleven degree uniform noise quiet as snow
the breath past house gift again plain
everything perceivable fences and filtered
light. your accent. can you imagine it mercurial
hunger chopping all those tender Rs into unrecognizable
duck-bits in the dawn hours from a michelin star
“In Baraka’s world, love of human liberation and the struggle for it is exalted.” Alexs Pate
Wikipedia Poem, No. 511
or still never rhyme
all over life
and readers quiet books context as right pull'er vocabulary a smaller vocabulary: big-city newspapers, this disenter? iced coffee, should i give up being a dog context 1201 fullsizerender the newspaper or bush? outrage world slept, this disinterest context 1142 03102016 i’m going to shut up? context 1349 lifter puller vocabulary: big-city newspapers of confirmationers context 1917 have all find context 1349 lifter agape why do I fast or playground kids are righter of culture and practitioner journey to point the nations with wide circulation a small drink more coffee, should i give up
Hi, Joanna. How have you been?
I’m well. You look well — I’m
Happy to hear you use that word.
Good. Good. Well, anyway, I’m
Concerned about your voice.
No, specifically the way you recite.
It’s … troubling. You appear snakelike
And arrested, harmless. That’s not the way.
It’s not. I wouldn’t say “short of breath”
Exactly. Let’s call it, Forked-god. Please,
Calm down. I’m going to ask you
A couple of questions about your sexual history. Is that OK?
You switch back and forth between — please,
Correct me if I’m wrong — between
Subject and solitude. That’s to say:
Radical loneliness and decimation. Correct?
Masturbation may be part of it, but I’m speaking
Broadly about a timeline of sexual partners:
Moon-god, Ocean-sent, Stoic-antler. Relevant?
Of course. Its right here on your chart, Joanna:
“Five-three, phenotypically retroussé nose,
Tumescent pout, cosmetically rebellious.”
So, why this affected staccato when you read?
“Reading poetry, if reading is even the word, was something else entirely. Poetry actively repelled my attention, it was opaque and thingly and refused to absorb me; its articles and conjunctions and prepositions failed to dissolve into a feeling and a speed; you could fall into the spaces between words as you tried to link them up; and yet by refusing to absorb me the poem held out the possibility of a higher form of absorption of which I was unworthy, a profound experience unavailable from within the damaged life, and so the poem became a figure for its outside. It was much easier for me to read a poem in Spanish than Spanish prose because all the unknowing and hesitation and failure involved in the attempt to experience the poem was familiar, it was what invested any poem with a negative power, its failure to move me moved me.”
Buy “Leaving the Atocha Station” from Coffee House Press.