28 Aug 2007, 8:10am
Writing
by David

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The Past, Like Most Lessons

Or the water—what does it have to do to

be safe? When it lies down with you when

you see your reflection, and—you

want to see it. She says, you can’t catch

cancer from other people, but I don’t

trust them. Then, I felt overlooked. I felt

drugged. I felt like my insides were

cooking. Now, after all these years, how

do I find myself all tiny again, all seated

at the table, at the table with my baby-

doll St. Agnes Moorehead, St. Agnes

Moorehead? (And they have a tear.)

St Agnes? The left eye is a little bigger,

or the right one. And the kohl doesn’t

help. She begins to wonder if she’ll be

gone by the first scene. And sometimes

she is gone. Into the first-class cabin,

into the cabin, into the sleeping-car of

whatever vehicle they happen to be on.

She doesn’t reach for her vehicles. Of

course the water is a vehicle: there is

The Pride billowing : The Pride. She

says, I don’t want you to see me like

this. I don’t want you to see me.

25 Aug 2007, 10:06am
Writing
by David

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Antimatter

Don’t arch my face, you make my scowls stick up when you
Run in your underwear
Down to the lake
A map so fine the stars silver
Moon the outhouse cut-out (like fine lace–but who put it there)
This is a place that you should know but
Thank you for not undressing yet
Thank you
Let me talk

The dirty old town was barren and without soul
And you were barren and without soul
And the night was hot
You ran through the wild deluge
You ran to the lake edge
The lake of fire had its stars stuck on
The night in reverse, and they were very black

You shook your fist

And though your feet were not yet formed
Were clay

You said
This is not a place where we should meet, because
nothing ever comes here
Nothing ever dies

And nothing ever came there
Nothing ever died

That was the birth of a planet

18 Aug 2007, 8:20pm
Writing
by David

2 comments

Map of the Realm

From a faceful of dirt to 30,000 ft up, on Everest,
or better yet, on an airplane,
the view of beginning to beginning

(Come over a cloudbank and aha
Some tiny towns are
Really big towns, that way)
Of course you don’t know that you don’t land there

But everything looking postage-sized and pretty
Oh god

It takes Real towns and roads to make forests remote
winding that way
a river with some canoeists on it
a bridge with some canoeists on it
No, Ants crawl
up a table leg

I mean Needles
Pine needles on picnic tables on patios
Are (invisible) real good
Viewed from mountaintops, real good

Except, that when you take a picture
there comes a crowd in a bus
People
Am I late
omg

(With jealousy)

The museum starts to call at 10

Come in
Come in

Tintoretto Seurat we have them all

The travel itinerary
You don’t remember the rest of, its been a long day
(Fog taking you back)

So you take another picture,
go back to the coast

And there’s a sunset
The hotel rooms’ pictures ablaze…

And, is this the earth?
Well
Well the earth’s arms are so immense
that you take the hands off
You put the hands in a jar

And then you dig
You dig
You dig for a while on your knees and elbows