not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

where skin meets inanimate meets new life

did you know that it is only soil and water that make the tree? 
 you take one page of soil and pass it like velum over one page
of water.  and what of babies, my soiled page to your water-
shed, verso to recto?  what springiness results then, what
 uncoiling life! what of poetry? what of that?  what of
murmurings and half remembered dreams?  what is more
real, my leg or the chair?  what if we were to crumble the
page of my leg and plant it inside the page of the chair? 
what would be born then?  what books?  what verse? 
what life?


  1. what fascinating imagery. bursts open my imagination.

  2. a soft glimmer of skin
    that picks up light from the window
    and answers
    against the dark
    surely this writes very deeply into the chair
    surely this is life
    that curls into its pulse
    as strongly as any verse....


"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))