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
