irrigations

trying to add to the underside of songs, this slow long ride slides glimmers down just like just like you sat sitting slightly bent and swooning was every natural state (not like waking up, but smooth)

- early as the first passage of mos def songs and waiting on anything at all to happen (this world is all fingers, touches, smiles, sighs)

laughter is growing in me.

so faces straighten out and smiles grow mischevious (some things are certain only in stained glass portraits)

no more standing on ceremony.

i am the early earth walking whichever way wants worthiness -it's easier to glow in salted seas and over hot coals and beneath blankets where every secret sits waiting for us to wake and watch: you can't keep stalled on roadsides, i can't keep launched lurking little fingers over rimtops or arched airways (this little irrigation song). we live everywhere at once sometimes.

i'm trying to put the sun's peices together again, to set into print some casual remarks about the variances of skin tones and the way one eye can be alive so much more than whole countries and i've seen it in you (and others) and this and this and this and this:

- your arms are acrobats

- your eyes are the soles of shoes, the nature of aimless walks

- your neck is the line of countrysides.

- your legs lend weight to funerals, make being alive matter; the essence of long groves and orchards

and why not, right?

so certainly someone somewhere sees sunsets you don't and why shouldn't they why should you why should anyone at all but just slow down slow down and rest (like the rest of them)

it's early as everything, there are only stories left and that's how fine it can be sometimes: just living through it holding it in the dark rooms of your memory my memory just memory and what else adds up these days?

2.

so surely you see now see now see now

everywhere is coming and we should all come along for all the giggles graves and grace that follows.

this is life, you know.

2005-10-29 | 4:58 p.m.
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