What gentle echoes,
half heard sounds
there are around here.
*
You place yourself in
such relation, you hear
everything that's said.
Take it or leave it.
Return it to a particular
condition.
Think
slowly. See
the things around you,
taking place.
*
I began wanting a sense
of melody, e.g., following
the tune, became somehow
an image, then several,
and I was watching those things
becoming in front of me.
*
The you imagined locates
the response. Like turning
a tv dial. The message,
as one says, is information,
a form of energy. The wisdom
of the ages is "electrical" imulse.
Lap of water
to the hand, lifting
up, slaps
the side of the dock --
Darkening air, heavy
feeling in the air.
*
A PLAN
On some summer day
when we are far away
and there is impulse and time,
we will talk about all this.
Oceanwide - Halou
Goodbye
Now I recognize
it was always me
like a camera
set to expose
itself to a picture
or a pipe
through which the water
might run
or a chicken
dead for dinner
or a plan
inside the head
of a dead man.
Nothing so wrong
when one considered
how it all began.
It was Zukofsky's
Born very young into a world
already very old...
The century was well along
when i came in
and now that it's ending,
I realize it won't
be long.
But couldn't it all have been
a little nicer,
as my mother'd say. Did it
have to kill everything in sight,
did right always have to be so wrong?
I know this body is impatient.
I know I constitute only a meager voice and mind.
Yet I loved, I love.
I want no sentimentality.
I want no more than home.
No comments:
Post a Comment