stranded 2.jpg

constructions-chapter 1(b)

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

 

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

  

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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