Wednesday, September 21, 2005

oh, the places i've been: part 2

still for frank, another plaintive series of words about a particular place, intact in its indignities.
my goodness, i'm feeling expressive tonight.

Notes from an Indiana journal:

We're not translating classical Greek.
so what color is it?

The world
actually is flat, just
as the ancient Greeks always thought,
& somewhere there's an end to it
where the sun comes up like a rush of hot gold
& the ocean pours into itself,
a perpetual wave--
I've seen the sea in my dreams
& it tells me these stories
of the edge of the world at dawn.

I have no idea what's going on. what really happens post-apocalypse? are we alone? how does anyone else see the world? I see it like me,

like I see it, how do you see it?

I am sick of speaking words, of the words you speak, that speak to hear themselves, you speak I speak to hear its voice-- what are you thinking? I'm so curious--I'm sick of speaking of you telling me what I want what you want to hear.

where are the singers
who wandered down my highway
selling lyrics for favors or bottles?
the road swallows them, toe by toe,
heel to heel dancing to choirs in bright skulls.

there is a thickness between me & the world.
all my thoughts are colored scarves
threading together to make a veil.
I can't see your face.

Once upon a time I danced the dance of seven veils I understood

the movement as I dropped each illusion to create a new one. but I knew even as illusions danced I whirled in the center in perfect time. now I may be tangled but I'm not even sure of that.
I must become narrow to slip through the cracks in your logic.

these days the whole world is green & gray,
like bagpipes.
please don't plug your wires in my brain.

suddenly I love my mother.

the road to cities with names, places of travelers,
four a.m. breakfasts
working with the temporal authority,
a Renaissance sky where Michelangelo walks on air
& visions of highways dance in my head.

February 2000, Lafayette, Indiana, circa age 19.

5 little fish:

Blogger jenn see swam up to say...

um, i must admit, one of the issues i had with indiana was i felt i couldn't write for shit...


but sometimes there's another reason for posting something...

10:57 PM  
Blogger theleftsock swam up to say...

i dont mean to be vulgar, but remind me to burn the indiana journal if i ever find it.
k thx

11:14 AM  
Blogger jenn see swam up to say...

what, mine???
or yours?

i can't burn it, it's got Lt. Drinkwater in there.

12:30 PM  
Blogger theleftsock swam up to say...

yours. im pretty certain i already burned mine. :)

1:04 PM  
Blogger jenn see swam up to say...

sorry sock, my inner archivist rebels at such an idea.
no offense, i hope.

besides, what's so bad about this piece?
i mean, ok, poetically it's not my best, but...

1:22 PM  

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