constructions-chapter 1(b)
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sal
again i am compelled to think
of myself thinking of her
our characters are stranded
on a divorced beach
this is a coda ..
it pulses with memories
lost in a scrabble of a half light
of a 1000 1000 years
▪
boy
from a remote afternoon
he waits the bus ..
the tall dark boy
is next to a long light pole
**
after that ..
he walks with impersonal extensions
– one for each arm
▪
spring(s)
the spring woman
in the television
is intent here ..
by contrast she meekly points
to the swollen images
in our other states ..
she is back soon then
with prophetic fires &
with promised release
**
spring the season is
or
spring is the season
for wind, seen here,
in sienna filters
and virga, rain shy
from artistic clouds
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in town
that gangly building in town, on the town corner, across of the presbyterian’s church, has a handsome soul .. an interior of ash grey faded pale
***
and what repair is this?
the strange trucks in our streets ..
grinding concrete skin
to expose municipal nerves
and muscle
**
a garden in the wall .. at the brick side tall entrance, this is also in town .. something might be said about the big-mouth leaves that greenly breath up the three stories of wall .. and its trembling, a career, in our presence
▪
hwy 95
the southeast shuffle of hwy 95 falls from reno & lake tahoe to the crimson valley
(and) nomadic high-low ranches be blessed .. their ginger prospects hurry the road
for fifteen miles or twenty miles visible spirits fall from wassuk range to walker lake
there are abysses off parts of the road .. one wants not to imagine cuts in the earth
there are sinks/dry lakes, out of sight .. miles miles long with bodies of salts & soils
foreign buildings bleeding metallic, & of a military distance, moor some surroundings
the human constructs of boundaries are ignored by a boundary peak straddling 2 states
a generation of signs tempt one to the death valley, west an hour & a detour to below sea level
the embittered valley ‘amargosa’ never forgets .. it perseveres memories in the land ..
while cactus springs & indian springs succeed the depressions of the low lands of las vegas
▪
they
they place behind the mountains
in late summer
they wait in the blue bricks
they can rise after the noon
in a chalk mild mood or
within a state of rage
**
and what we cannot see out of sight
is the monumental hand that is moving
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neighbor(s)
the neighbor sits on steps/stairs
outside above
she has a dim cigarette
one or two each day ..
and a shadow in her voice
if she wants to say hello
**
the persian neighbor who lives with his family
in the east apartment, enjoys to smoke
near the interior courtyard ..
in the sun cold sunday
▪
some seas
we go by a sea ..
the displaced seeking
an elusive residence
longing a hope
before liquid doors
yet off the coast
birds & beasts
have their classical islands
.. no one human is allowed
and there is the marble fog
on the day beach
as well as, the greater theatre ..
it lets rain
seaweed
stones stones
▪
la jolla
at la jolla – the streets universally
under a tan sun
linen sideways, fresh cars
roses green red
and rose voices
at the university
a beach for dawn
the sky so unfolds
the sand dunes
pose for flight
▪
day(s)
somehow i have lost a gone day
i stand aside myself or i am no use
even, next door someone guilts
a spent afternoon tuesday
**
today is twenty years of days ..
the city that chooses me
the sequence of beggars birds bells
the knowledge of what is lustrous
.. transitive though
will it continue with me
wherever i be &
whenever i am being(?)
▪
regret
friend of my ghost regret carries an emotional stamp ..
she who has been just recently by & has no want to leave yet
she, who eternally inquiries about despair
and the long ago but when i respond politely
she becomes angered, now so too i am angry
then she does not care
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