The man with one blue hand

I saw him walk down the sidewalk
and lived then for a moment
in a murder mystery where I
held the only clue. In blue.

History wants all, was
everywhere. That’s why
the world’s such a mess.

Yesterday was a repetition of today.
Today repeats tomorrow. No,
because the temperature is the same
is not the same.

The page is left dry and the pressure
of every real story is just the framework for the real story.
Which I tell you now.

A world in which this matters.

Action sinks or swims, proclivity tends toward
disarray. Delayed
startle response. The ingenuous path leads
here. Slowish in/ex-halation. Repeat
to failure. Wish
on the fallen star. Inscrutable? Aha.

Darkness rivals intensity. You fail to mention
this vagueness, ever new. But you keep
walking. The mystery ends
as you enter the building,

Aha!

all the songs on the random radios
are familiar in a sudden sort of way
not that your baedeker of impulse promises
a ‘where’ to turn, to sing along
with this naive story

history

some moments of nostalgia, full of friends
lovers strangers, your car, it’s that simple

entrance, an
or otherwise altercation
this little magic, this moment or implement
which interrogates the similar

we keep speaking of ourselves to ourselves
ad infinitessimum (or,
going on forever, forever in smallness)

as you have been a few instances
we are not supposed to know
the dark that marks my erstwhile arms

an impasse

some kind of rubber band or is it heartache
just fell over into bits of song

Exes and Ohs

some talk about philosophy, like time and cigarettes
and it is a harmonica (or a recording of one) not a truck
it is an opportunity, then, a distinction or it is
perfect weather today (you can say that always
but today it really is) and falling or reaching
(the same thing) at hand

in another country, you turned the other way
so my footsteps follow you, my vague fear amplifies
a vague having forgotten, was this what you dreamed?

a story requires more than one person or
an event
the first time I stayed up all night was just to see if I could

I had planned it that way, a shiver
that determines amplitude (you have become
so becoming)

[this is not done]

the bus arrives, departs, someone is still
standing still

plainly, I enjoy my deficiencies
various
this saddled lack, riddled still
with significant array

today it’s both warmer and colder here
than there (where you may be)
[this is still not done]
this
grey day, point blank

the supermarket is out of whack, out of line
the villains continue to be villainous (surprise!)
there is little solace in this having done

please contact us if you are possible

please get drunk now, white wine, and read Linh Dinh -- please
eat popcorn, desultory
please go clink! against the bowl, the bracelet, the popcorn
please slide into terrifying
after work, before you read this again
please back up (the tow rope is broken)
please have your brows plucked, descend
please start with this premise
(look for yourself, yourself)
please find yourself there
please contact us if you are possible

from COLLECTED BLUEPRINTS, ALTERITY

"Dislocation of sense"

I want pajamas always
the color of tonight's sky at 7:17

(you be the moon
_____a half smile)

"not 'realism' but reality itself—"

Ella says: you got pajamas!

_________________________(quotes from W.C. Williams, Spring and All)

Don’t Eat Your Dreams

Don’t eat your dreams. Such stuff
as they are made of
is not to be so easily, so readily
consumed.

You come unglued, in other words,
they will consume you. Strings and all.

Other options palpitate
the surrounding malaise. A sibilant
stretch. A leg of alternates — or ;
Don’t let the inimitable
get you down.

Because this is the stuff we are made of.
The expert will tell you what you are made of.
Here is the expert.

Your life has been determined to be
unreadable. Don’t eat your dreams.
This tentative smear.

Why was everyone more beautiful in the past?
I think I am pointing at something.
And then, I’m already there. Yes, there.

This Song Needs Work

the itchy donkey, the sick donkey, and the burnt-out donkey
sat at the table together
the other donkey — is that how the song goes?

or

stupid fight about misunderstood (and list)

a man walks by with a book in his pocket
a bag in his hand
paradise was perfect ‘til—
here’s what we saw
__Caspian tern
__Bullock’s oriole
__rabbits playing or fighting
__3 kinds of swallows
__egret, blue heron, geese, ducks
__grackle
__turtles
__red wing black birds
__no owls

let’s go back: paradise was perfect
the farthest reaches
inaccessible

Elegy for a sick cat

for Tailer & Charles

Across the street someone
sings, sound
carries. Over the telephone
we are only a thousand miles away.
These little bundles
yes, they are precious,
our love
pours. These days
are perpetually asunder.
Our eyes are lacking
this significance.
If only the moment.
I descry the moment.

close, close

(close, close)

small things creep
awkward music forgets
precarious sleep

this accident of
memory turns, traverses
lazy things traipse

against the flattening light
for instance
voices drift up and in

we went back to the candy store
light waves
time permits

this does not describe you
large things
uncertain shadow

on the wrong foot
breaking in
un-
brokenly

Insect Whine

a ladybug goes drunken circles on the ceiling
while I wait for the alarm to say it’s time to set the clock

it’s time to confuse arrrival
when I sound like the character in a different story, a different film

where in a different way, pure decoration or subsistence
subsides or simply shakes

there’s a tree full of large birds with small heads. there are broken things behind us. some slight dismay is permitted. wave the affected (as in posturing) limb to and fro. this regular pattern is a sign of defeat. the enemy — who is the enemy? the enemy is invisible. whose enemy? your sharp neighborhood.

last night loosens and something is set free
something is set into motion

something is described by the terrible arc
inside or outside the limits of punctuation

the word ‘this’ describes me perfectly

Love, Families, Bears, Shoes

the moon in the window
the story of a war —
[ ]just one story, always the same one
always the same moon too

we talk about love, families, bears, shoes

tonight, you look different
though you walk the same
[ ]as if the sky’s omniscience would appease
[ ]that monster we know
tonight, you look the same

I’ve made a list of things I like about you

in the window, the war looms
its monster head obscures
imagination (some pictures, some frames)
[ ]in the window, my reflection
[ ]plus the moon

'love’ is a word written next to the skin

Mr. Fedorov with Shakespeare and coffee

Mr. Fedorov with Shakespeare and coffee
Originally uploaded by Gertrude Stein.

Or, These Little Piggies

this little piggy took the bus home, drunk
crying oui oui oui
and felt vaguely sad all the way

this little (sneeze)
this little vagary
effect only guesses at cause
cause deletes the effort

this little piggy studied the market
and found supply and demand
to be
a sham

this little tweak
is necessary

supply and effect
cause and demand

this little piggy
offers up advice
and this little piggy takes it

often we are
in this position

this little piggy can’t sleep at night

forfeit the remains
or is that
another story?

Entitled

merkurmap
Originally uploaded by Gertrude Stein.

Lacrosse Stick Acrostics

Last night I had
A dream that you were in my dream. Same
Conversation, different face. The sign said
Reach. The
Others went one by one,
Stepping around,
Stepping over
Each interval.

So, you
Think
I
Can
Kiss?

Allright. Let’s
Cross that
Roof when we come to it.
Or let’s just
Stay here.
Telepathy
Isn’t what it used to be.
Capiche?





Leave well enough
Alone.
Catastrophe strikes, the
Rest of us go
On. To
School or to the
Stables, where-
Ever we belong.

Strategy won’t get you
There. The secret way
In is through the
Chimney. Let’s get
Kinetic.

Altogether history is on the side of the
Chickens.
Roosting, roasting; accusing each
Other ridiculously.
Stop kidding yourself.
The only other article
Is under the
Covers.

we dance to no avaiL
along the way, A
new spark, zinC
explodes in wateR
this has a dominO
effect on NarcissuS
who is disturbed by the rippleS
in the lakE

unlessS
the after-effecT
is quasI
deliberate we mimiC
whenever we talK

yet another way A
star is born. This antiC
doesn’t go faR
on the way tO
the other café. DistresS
belittles the resT
I
resist this crazy arC

one too many

catseyenebula
Originally uploaded by Gertrude Stein.

I come from this solar system
the lady of erasure lives here too
will reach down and lean over to pick up something dropped
like your mottled sky
(in the rose garden, evil)
maintains
my fever for sale in the Orvis catalog
a big boat and the smaller boats we lived in
[absent line]
both
tried to remember the names later with coffee

cat thump, rainy friday

pennyfarthing
Originally uploaded by Gertrude Stein.

whose life is on fire? this turmoil
is located in the middle, in the middle of the body
of evidence

the rain stains the window like a sheet — that is, a thin solid expanse
like a dancer — that is, impetuous
like light — that is, pined for not lost
like 'nature' — that is, possible
like arrival — that is, abrasive

a curse runs through the street
a curve in the middle of the sidewalk
in this instance, taken but not spent
one falls, we all fall (ashes, ashes)
the actual symbol detonates
we all fall down

7 may 2005

Darkness Fails Again

let's begin with particulars, I said yes
and you asked me a question. then
you said yes and there was nothing
to demand. you said the box in your pocket
was a camera but now I know better.
the glimmer in your eyes
gives you away. away.

you, who have taught me how
everything is small but nothing
is little. you have given me
this smallness, its true
immensity. propounds.

dissimilarity is never
that obvious.

placing things into your hands,
you, the outside of you,
touching the outside of me,
my hands. you hold me.

there's a swirl of dark near the bottom
of the cup. my hands are full.