Counterpane

Ma chambre a la forme d'une cage
                                -- Apollinaire


One might as well pick up the pieces.
What else are they for? And interrupt someone's organ recital--
we are interruptions, aren't we? I mean in the highest sense
of a target, welcoming all the dust and noise
as though we were the city's apron.

Going out has another factor about it--
the mineral salts that have leached through our wall
staining it untoward colors, yet we wait
for them, the peace goes on in our mouth.

Sometimes suicide seems like a neat solution--
"elegant," as mathematicians say,
and it's too late to be counted out.
But the black tide mounting in us is probably the best

method. It makes you want to exercise
and simultaneously gasp, give up resting
and spend a little time with a book, or encourage the vine to grow.
We'll need all the feelers we can get come December,

so go on putting them out. Operators are waiting to take your call,
overloaded trunk lines bawling regret,
yet the one answer, when it comes, isn't particularly cogent,
though it means well, inviting us to rest on sparse laurels

and drilling a little fancy into the brain next door.
"How's about it, Chief? Gotten in any smooth ones yet?"
That wisteria sky has to become a sea of comfort
on which we're cut adrift with lots of friendly goats and ghosts.

Life is a warehouse sale for the initiated,
i.e., those who know where to go and find it,
then make it back to the abandoned comb
we've thought about so intensely across the spruced-up years.


-- John Ashbery

Moonless Night

A lady weeps at a dark window.
Must we say what it is? Can we simply say
a personal matter? It's early summer;
next door the Lights are practising klezmer music.
A good night: the clarinet is in tune.

As for the lady-- she's going to wait forever;
there's no point in watching longer.
After a while, the streetlight goes out.

But is waiting forever
always the answer? Nothing
is always the answer; the answer
depends on the story.

Such a mistake to want
clarity above all things. What's
a single night, especially
one like this, now so close to ending?
On the other side, there could be anything,
all the joy in the world, the stars fading,
the streetlight becoming a bus stop.


-- Louise Glück

Houses

We are creatures of habit
and habitat.

I mean, point out four corners to border
my life and I shall have a house

held up by four posters keeping
all the inhabiting I shall do inside.

Meaning, I am a bear.
Meaning, I am wild

with hunger and each morning
my mouth foams over still

flapping fish fins breaking between
my jaws. Meaning, you are

in another country, drinking coffee
or tea, and heading out because you are hungry

for something more than doughnuts. Sometimes
the traffic on your way to work lets you

remember. Meaning, tell me the four corners
of my grave and when I die, I shall try

not to stretch my wild arms
too wide.

2007

-- Kash Martinez Avena

Capturing time as if it were a firefly

Keeping

I will not wait for ours to turn sour, for it will not 

Long after wine fails its magic in our systems 

And laughter leaves many mouths without a sound 

Like the bright amber of evenings giving into dark 

Conversion, further turning hollow gatherings 

Into ruin. They all will go, with us in the thick of it 

Gone, but not quite. We will go through hours

Meeting and leaving numerous strangers. 

We’ve named those who’ve grown fond

Of hearing useless secrets. I will delight, instead, 

In the pockets of silence in-between: 

Reaching your hand and locking them 

Into mine, a furtive turn to feel 

Your stare; gazing eyes taking me 

Back to that place, that night 

Where I know. Where you know 

Our lives truly happen. 

January 2010

Carnal Fate

We left the expedition:

a private gastronomic novelty

to find the unconsumed—

strangers at our leisure

cut up and sold to closing

time versus consequences.

The evening divides,

 another moon transforms:

Desire is a solitaire.

Specters speak

                 increasing interference.

the nonhuman world approached.

Mostly without appetites

we ordered another aphrodisiac.

We were halfway to extinction.

It was time to go,

always time to go,

only I will not go.



A cut and paste poetry exercise inspired by the following texts:

1. We always sat across from each other at the same table in the same restaurant, talking. She was a regular there, and of course she always picked up the tab. The back part of the restaurant was divided into private compartments, so that the conversation at any table could not be heard at another. There was only one seating per evening, which meant that we could talk at our leisure, right up to closing time, without interference from anyone—including the waiters, who approached the table only to bring or clear a dish. She would always order a bottle of Burgundy of one particular vintage and always leave half the bottle unconsumed. 

From The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

2. I will not go into the psychological divide of eating wild versus domesticated animals, but to the extent of human appetites have increased in both number and the kinds of animals they pursue in their quest for gastronomic novelty and the mostly male-driven search for the ultimate aphrodisiac, the consequences for the nonhuman world has transformed. We have reduced entire species of animals to near extinction. I personally heard a science writer speak about scientific expedition to find the Golden Moon Bear. When they found one alive in an Asian market, it was limping because one of its paws had been cut and sold.

From Science Solitaire, by Maria Isabel Garcia

3. We saw waterfalls, too, streams jumping off cliffs into the valley of the Delaware. There were lots of things to stop and see-and then it was time to go, always time to go. The little girls were wearing white party dresses and black party shoes, so strangers would know at once how nice they were. 'Time to go, girls,' I'd say. And we would go.

           From Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Transliteration

I will learn
these words so
that I might write

(with you
to you
for you)

only in a language
you will understand.

Index of Strange Conditions

Abulia[1], 19-22, 29-37, 53

All About Eve, 0-90

Anorexia nervosa, 13-17

Background ballads, 22- 30

Beauteous flaws, 16, 25, 38, 55

Believing illusions:

apparent traits & idiosyncrasies, 25-41

aspiring relevance, 19-34, 38-

55, 60-82

happiness, 7-13, 28-30, 54, 61

Chance at clarity, 18-22, 27-50,

Chasing children, 30-43

Control, 19-25, 28-47,

Drug dependence, 23-30

Amethia, 24

Celexa, 22

Diazepam, 22-25 

Disclosure of truth, 29, 35, 42, 55

Dubious luxury, 26-35, 43

Elusive liaisons, 37-42, 51-53

Estranged lovers, 24-31, 49-56

Explanations & errors, 38-45, 65

Fine flattery, 27-32

Flashbacks, 22-29, 37-50

Fragile foes, 28-45

Giving, 19-42, 55-74

Great Expectations, 30-51

Grace, 12, 23, 40

High Fidelity, 16-36

Hubris, 18-23, 28-37, 48-80

Humility, 19-22, 34-52, 61-90

Immaculate conscience, 7-18, 45-72

Insolence, 16-18, 25, 47

Intelligence, 1-20, 30-36

Jaded joys, 34-62

Jaunts, 16-75

chronic toxicity, 19-30

insomnia, 3-60

retail therapy, 21-27, 34-43

Jerks, encounters with 14-28, 35-53

Keeping debts, 38-43

Kinks, 17-38, 51-53

Knowing secrets, 16-22, 30

Lack of tenderness, 29-43, 54-58

Lapses, 29-35, 55-68, 82-90

Late visits, 25-32, 51-53

Manic trysts, 22-25, 51-53

Midnight, 3-60

Myths, see Believing illusions

Neurasthenia[2], 44-90

Nictalopia[3], 38-90

Nostalgia, 25, 38, 51

Oppositions, 11-38, 49-56

Optional paralysis, see Abulia

Outcomes, 28-40, 51-66

Pallor, 23, 41, 60-68

Palpable deception, 19-23, 38-43

Physical fatigue, 25-38, 44-59, 60-68

                Loss of sexual interest, 39-41,

54-58, 60-90

               

Queer notions, 18-34, 49-59

Quibbled qualms, 24-32, 44-58

Quotes, see Great Expectations;

High Fidelity; All About Eve:

...like all happy endings, 
it was a tragedy, of my device,

 for I succeeded. –Finn, 51

What came first, the music 
or the misery? – Rob, 36

Why, if there's nothing else, 
there is applause. – Eve, 29

Receiving ridiculous accusations, 25-38

Recovering reverie, 23-45, 55-89

Removing guilt, 26-39, 61-77

Salvaging the essential, 54-69, 72-81

Scent of Sundays, 47-55, 61-70, 81-90

Surpassing superiors, 32, 44, 56-62

Terms of endearment, 24-28, 51-53

Therapeutic hymns, 22-28, 39-41

Trading traditions, 24-39, 51-74

Understated intentions, 26-35, 51-62

Unlearning derision 54-58, 72-90

Urging flight, 25-39, 51-65

Vanity & vision, 14-32, 51-53

Varied versions of thought, 21-42, 55-81

Volition, 22-35, 45-51, 74-82

Waning foresight, 46-53, 61-90

Wanting lover, 32-53

Wasting time, 19-26, 51-53

Xanthopsia[4] , 70-90

Xenoglossia[5], 51-53

Xenophobia[6], 33-44

Yearning, see Nostalgia

Years of silence, 14-24, 37-59

Yielding nothing, 19-25, 39-44, 61-90

Zazen meditations, 39-41, 55-83

Zero recall, 84-90

Zodiac reliance, 29-44, 51-53, 64-77

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[1] Aww, do I have to make a choice? I can't... I don't know!

[2] Who soiled the carpet? I told you to take out the trash! What? Why you good for nothing--!!!

[3] How do you look? Too dark. Doesn't matter.

[4] "Look at the stars, look how they shine for you & all the things you do. It was all yellow..." –Coldplay

[5] “Il mio amore, mein liebe, dragostea mea...” [Gibberish! It means nothing.]

[6] "I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien. I'm an Englishman in New York." –Sting [He scares me out of my wits. Ugh.]