6 Jan 2005, 3:29pm
Writing
by David


40 Gold Chains

§ 1

Look for nests in the hair of the sea.
Pretty and blue.

Cracked-open eyes, the globes.
Gull’s eggs.
Robin’s eggs.
Crow’s eggs.

Now the red capillaries.

§ 2

Develop a screenplay of your life.
Be faithful.
Put yourself in as many scenes as you can.

King Ahab.
Monte Cristo.
Oliver Cromwell.

§ 3

Make a topological map of the ocean.
Mark items of particular interest:
houses and parks.
Yellow and blue, there
the eyes, minutes.
Floaters and pins.
Highway hammock DELI sign tire.
A tree, now.
And now.

§ 4

Practice an abolished religion:
necromancy or pyromancy.
Practice astrology.
Be particular in the stars you follow.
Daedalus. Icarus.
Charlton Heston and Sinatra.

§ 5

Perform a sea-rescue for a family of seals.
Drag them into the boat,
up, up.
Embrace the grandparents lovingly,
as in a waltz.

§ 6

Invent a new kind of languor,
one that involves satisfaction but leaves out the sadness.
Practice it on the baby tortoises.

(The abysses.)

§ 7

Reflect on the surface.

And now?

§ 8

Singing songs:
Introduce hymns to the sea-bottom.
Give them names such as
Rainbow, Mirror-colored, and Tiny.
Milk-white, and Whiter.

Now they will know when you call them.

§ 9

Sever your unhappiness
from your unwillingness.
Cast a wide net.

§ 10

Diorama:
Fashion Show/Tea Party/Dress Ball.
The manatee in a tu-tu of course.

§ 11

Go on with any laments you can find.

§ 12

Collect the rain in a soup-can.
Number the drops
as seconds
and then the weeks pass.

That was innocence,
that thirst.

§ 13

Truly,
the first and the longest note.

§ 14

Discover the seeds of geometry.
Circling the pyramids for a full day
recite one name as you go by.

WhisperedHiddenBurningIt.

Circumference : Diameter.

§ 15

Make plans to visit your in-laws on the sea-bottom.
Pack gifts and food.
Pack your treasures and name them:
phone cord, missing limb, bumblebee

(file, cake, oh lord).
Cancel everything at the last minute.
Say you’re sorry, you’re very sorry,
but you can’t make it.

§ 16

3/4 time.
En francais.
Lentemente, with a handle and snow.

The epithet for raiment is?

§ 17

The weight on the one hand,
and then the other:

Which do you drop?
Which do you drop?

§ 18

Learn charms to summon the weather,
the wind.
The wind has to be held
close to you.
Close to you.
Swear that you’ll hold it
close to you.

(on all your days)
(in a sleeping hut you sew from your own hair)

§ 19

Surround yourself with mythological creatures
made of plywood, and a single vial/evil.
(The word liar, liar.
Does the whole world know it?)

A whole city of plastic
or glass,
or of stone.
Remember that man in Florida
or Superman’s jar world.

It could just be.
It could just be.

§ 20

Become engrossed in happiness.
Study its effects on your enemies,
the tides.
Does everyone know that gravity is
physical?

Let someone work for you.

§ 21

Sleep.
Instruct your soul in timekeeping
by moonlight.

Examine:
the little clock on the nightstand
the (one) missing shoe.

Undo the knots then
do them back.

§ 22

Astrolabe,
the boy who time forgot.

§ 23

Tie, tie.
Who do you want to be/beat up?
Robocop, King George, Fanny Brawne,
wild woman of the Azores…

Regret: that you didn’t meet Achilles.

§ 24

Marry yourself at the last instant.
Be decisive.
Say I do.
I will.
Yes.
It’s time.

§ 25

Hurry up.

Hurry.

§ 26

Hairstyles:
a little different each day.
Wear your hair in a bun tomorrow;
today, invite birds to nest in it.

You can (almost) manage the hats.

§ 27

Dress the accordion and the sea-bugle.
Both sea-organs and
Serenade the gulls.
Invent a new clock for the otters.

The driftwood guitar, of course.

§ 28

Erect an altar before sundown.
Erect it from water and foam.
Demolish it and then
demolish it before sundown, again,
before you go in.

Now the word Astarte.
(Float. Downstream.)

§ 29

Lord,
Polish the bell.
Grease the anchor-chain.

§ 30

Astrology:
Paint a map of the stars on the foredeck.
(on the forehead: remember who)
This is where you lost it–the X–

and here it is, watch out.

§ 31

Herodias.
The girl who danced at your wedding
and who made you
a little nervous.

Shy, compact.

§ 32

Molecular.
The waves are not so high and
you miss the lakes.

Do the turtles show you anything?

(Not yet.)
(But guess again, anyway.)

§ 33

Wear a crown.
Fill your arms with bracelets, and thorns.

Time, for a boy or a girl.

§ 34

Know the sounds of the
hammer,
and of the ping-pong
rolling away.

§ 35

Learn to braid.
It can’t hurt.

§ 36

Be nice.
Stack stones against the door
and against the bar
and against the cliffs.
(Now, in a little cave.)
Will your friends,
the birds, take notice?

Kee… Kee…
What’s happening in the west?

§ 37

Sand.
Everywhere.
Move on.
Get up.
You’re in the wrong geography.

§ 38

Bury the shores and expect them.

To apologize. Apologize.

Not yet, but mean it.

§ 39

Break
the mirror
and Break
                           It
because the
Wind
goes through

§ 40

hand,
Glassblower,
silver frieze,

wake up on your birthday