January 9, 2009

Notes toward a Poem at 3:15 a.m.

for danielle

Now for a key lost in architectural structure. The shapes determine the view. This has already been written by someone other than the one writing. Now the afterimage fades a bit. Lids are thinner than one thinks, a lizard could see through. Negligee. God period five period. The means do not outweigh the notch; the latch lost in sand from cherry drops. Now the weather has picked up this morning. I would not describe his temperature, yet his tone can be inferred but not implied. Implied but not stretched across a frame like tight white canvas. I’m looking for three elements, not dead center. It’s not fascination; it’s desire for meaning. The form teaches me something about the point. A dog’s nose. Wet tells direction just like this word, which will take one to another. Train your thoughts. Train your thinking to understand something about the movement. Blue peels off the object, any color actually; to separate is difficult in any degree of order and the bus slams into the hearse killing the driver. If god five were one of the pronouns, which is a noun that gets paid to be the subject. Predicated on lawyer, she passes into this new port. A demarcation / a border of where this sentence ends and this grid begins with a word. Begin with a sound / an image. A color peeling off its object. To view something through a viewfinder determines what one is able to see. And so the language is about what happens before this moment and what happens after but not about the moment itself. But that would be more present / not past tense language / not polyglot hermeneutics. Now over and over again about the cave and the findings in darkness, a shelter back so that you can insert the letter E. The site at which it is broken in order to move this person from the seat of pain from the sleeping. Wake up wake up a fucking desire. Bored is a state, but you choose it over excitement / you can choose another phase / you can choose another. Do not back space into another world. The L momentarily pauses before the one that means the most to me, which is not about sand tin particle against another / one cannot count enough to get there. Wave light light the body the body extends the gesture even though the mind was made to say no. The colon creates the shape you want.

Goodnight J walk bird roadrunner drug Columbia white bomb particle grandfather to keep in jar utility dust key on the hook steak fork to pry door around the neck drop against the back spine disappear particle again head of cow leather bullet dodge Kansas gun bars film shutter exposure.

Now the self which is constructed out of cray paper out of no one out of understanding the seam, a stitch by stitch not knot pearl of what stays in the mind of what stays on the eye. Now one day I will be blind, a cyst gas bubble parallel to the floor stretch the body along the x axis of / not y / not to be a pro who buys nouns / not to be objects. It doesn’t look that old; she knew I was lying; and I was.