Notes for Resisting

 

She wondered where playing went – I wanted to say I will play with you – but I just looked at her thinking about the word playing - thinking about playing with her - wondering had I ever learned how to enjoy playing with others - I am the first to stop playing so that I can walk away – look back at where I was and think about this over there – which is why playing with a ball allows for such freedom and distance – reaction time

Lost in the country – playing with words – I withdraw and descend to where the poem ends – then climb a difficult joy – I asked her - what was the book about and she answered – and I heard her – now we know how to use it properly - perhaps we are always face to face with what a text says and what we want it to say

The books I like crack the world open – kill everything in sight – rescue the small ones and escape with or without you – The word dwell takes up a great deal of space – it is hidden in a forest somewhere – we know such places from here to there – a sort of non-location – that is known

Outside I am told we are all alive – and worth knowing – when the letter H finishes it makes a sound and folds down into an X

3 lines for H

It is morning and we may move freely

2 lines for X

At night we remove the crossbar that holds the lines open

4 lines for E

When we dream we encounter the other line – waiting for us

 

I cast spells on my life all the time – live my hex down to the bone – constantly in love with something I saw

Don`t be afraid – of laughing – of walking home – of wolves and suffering – of a big meal

Everything is a word – I often cut into pieces and use it to make a fire

I am making a home

I am burning down my house

I am writing a text

I am without a country

I have absorbed all the courage I have ever witnessed

When will the images fight back

I am disrupting space – crossing borders and looking back – longing always and drinking too fast

My question remains

What can I do at a border that can only be done at a border – only this interest me

Memory for forgetfulness – Consider another question – the first idea has its own story – madness as a form of compassion – We are always tired in the morning – silence has a way of making us talk – outside the law - Homagespeak  homagespeak  my homage  - and layers above the paint are not permanent