Saturday, December 03, 2005

some about: my recent

People ask me what my book
is about
I say ‘nothing’ as

I called it
‘broken/open’
that seemed to be
words for

the nothing I know
which goes out into
and is patterned in language

Then it may say

It will become a book
you can hold
and turn like a poem

a place to mark
something that can be
opened? Dissolved in doing?

I’m going with perception
which may be
‘going on your nerve’

jumping in the midst
of the flow, experience
in language underway

But I have found I need
more tenderness
to pick up the pieces

everything is broken –
systems, gods, engines
now it’s more fun

perhaps against method/perhaps no project
and going without
some ‘reader’ that’s been made-up

feeling my way again
and the importance of wings
the lake, rock and sand

it all runs on the pink sexed skin
a landscape like sound
drips from my edges

asking questions
about how the pieces don’t fit
shards alter meanings

these shards are the parts

‘poetry is too important to be left
to its own devices’ Charles Bernstein

Are we at the end of
‘the body’ and ‘nature’?
Is time disappearing into speed?

Awe is an engine
the particular
‘a glitch in the system’?

Where are the new senses?

It is broken – it is open.

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