June 11, 2014

cutting into vision for languages...

photo by EJR ©



the Hudson as theater in the round wrecks of the edmund fitzgerald

cupping and crawling
conquests and surrenders
we are rooted cores
soul within fingers
we are what teaches us

right now
we are in an inland sea mythology
we are forested memory and just
hand-billed to do what we do
life being passed around
pretzels up and down
a bar-top

these are drinking towns
swapping stories
what once was
another pour, wait
i have a cage story to tell
if you ring that bell
affixed to the corner
wearing hung glasses
racked as hair over there

we are the chorus
Horus and Dionysus
we bless the theater
we are regulars
we huddle and murmur
we know how drunk
you need be
rung inside something
until words
gesticulate meant
a bent dizzy
regularity repeated
by washing in the quiet
buildings of storms

we are the serenade
the hypnosis
the symphony and
the oscillations
we are silent velvets attached
to the bottoms of standing still
so as not to scratch by dancing
the floors covered in scattered
sand and sawmill shavings

we played shuffleboard
bump and hug
waiting for last call

the alley door opened
and it was raining
the wind cutting into 4 am
timing a timelessness
the rest of us
can play catch
as catch can with

we bowled
valley thunder rolled
we wobbled
drawn well light
we wondered
lightning as care
we wandered
giving in to thirst
we were
slaying every hunger
to be someone’s discovery

summer is here now
blessing Moon filling
her sirens and fleshed towns
this deep old tongued valley
a ripe shale clay slid
viscous bouquet we did
linger here
where her scent was
vicious and simple

i maple
impale barren skies
wanting, is my domain
needing is my bane

remember, we are part
and parcel spoken rituals
silent record keeping
hushed whispered paraded whorled
we are the woods and siding
the stone walls where
there were trees once

we became what the fields gave us
as we tilled season after season
with the only reason we grind on
was to find being dug into
the skin, bone and sinew
of main characterizations
our demons and angels
fleshed with awe again
why we started this story
by crying to end
the night as tide
and tit to rain


EJR ©

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