August 28, 2011 – 12:00 pm
interlude my mother is fond of the claim: gardens, time, gardens time. Yes, she would say, tomorrow, will another garden be. In Richard Three: “. . . our firm estate, When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up” which was, she said, the last thing she heard […]
August 27, 2011 – 4:03 pm
interlude sometimes pauses come at awkward periods. In this case the thought of my father closing his fingers around the guide bar of the saw before the chain had a chance to stop followed my hand to the door knob soon after the soft knock came and the silence behind the door as I reached […]
August 26, 2011 – 5:06 pm
canto 37 and so I told her I would wait and she said wait for what: for love, for sex, for companionship, for the presence of me among the Meadows where I grew flowers and made friendships with the ducks? henry and Lucy took me for drinks for consolation, something frothy in a glass, while […]
August 25, 2011 – 5:26 pm
canto 36 we had conversation where our boxes gave us every other word or several other words redacted so that what might have been: When the sun rises when the sun rises the night turns tail and the bushes and the corners of the buildings and the silver fenders of the automobiles emerge and the […]
August 24, 2011 – 4:04 pm
canto 35 at the border fence I walked west for a time or so or so went back east through fierce-looking bushes, in and out of which black meat-eating wasps threaded their orange wings, and on their branches seed hulls like skeletons hung rattling in the winds gritty with sand. then west again, scrapping my […]
August 23, 2011 – 7:04 pm
interlude it’s often the case one doesn’t know who one’s with. for example, once I slapped a roach off Henry’s shoulder but it was a skin roach, a roach construed of melanin and the tree shadows convening on the lake shore, some outing time, some autumn, maybe. it’s likely, I said, that a roach’d fall […]
August 22, 2011 – 8:25 pm
interlude I said wait wait wait and felt a long rectangle extend out into gray space where I had yet to reach but hoped to reach and imagined a nightwing moth coming to the bush flowers and the other flowers I used to watch where the moth would visit and the leaves and the flowers […]
August 21, 2011 – 5:28 pm
canto 34 and Lucy was provided for, coming in with a bible, a study bible, another bible, colored red, a Jerusalem version, and lessons on the real creator of the universe in pamphlets, given her, she said, by my father. with a smile? I asked, and she smiled. she sat at the couch and put […]
August 20, 2011 – 12:26 pm
canto 33 look at all the water surrounding you, lakedweller, who would ask me for more? look how your father with the club of his hand waves as the crowds embark with that old fridge, those book boxes, crates of wine year-aged, at the window you watch with your mother, who may or may not […]
August 19, 2011 – 9:12 am
canto 32 until I improved. But I wondered: what would I do if improvement never came, which should happen, according to the evidence, and if death comes who would find me? maybe the sun fears its own chilling . . . but then I heard a pol on TV call for mass prayer, saying: god […]
August 19, 2011 – 9:07 am
interlude I saw two small wasps having sexual intercourse on my balcony wall, but not much happened in the periods following. I grew ill, I had difficulty perceiving clearly whether it was on the wall or not on the wall, the shape of my hands, Lucy sounds, as she passed here and there, with her […]
August 17, 2011 – 4:46 pm
Oddly enough I could not remember anything else than the most elementary facts of my life. interlude I saw two small wasps having sexual intercourse on my balcony wall, one on the top the other beneath the one on top wriggling over the one on the bottom, who also wriggled in a strange small, energetic […]
August 16, 2011 – 12:15 pm
I walk outside on legs of fragile reeds. canto 31 Henry had a bird on his hand, that fluttered when he moved his fingers through Lucy’s hair now dyed red, the color of the small bird made by the discolor on Henry’s hands, while my father wondered on his new bed at the strange itch […]
August 15, 2011 – 10:17 am
canto 30 she said: I froze, or, rather, felt the muscles seize, the same way children might at the appearance of a bus, a car, approaching and the senses convey swerve and soon, in the soonness of immediacy, simple geometry, and the impendingness of impend ing crumple, blood, and shock, the bus, the car will […]
August 14, 2011 – 9:37 am
canto 29 yes, sometimes I forget which hand to use: the left or the right. the way my mother tells the story: she asked him to take down some limbs with the efficient eyes of the surgeon, a hundred times in a life time of cutting, assistance, clearing, the everyday weed piles, holes, clutter making, […]
