March 29, 2005

transparencies by Jeremy Stewart

not having spoken for along while flood of words in mind
recedes to leave pure colour

that night the northern lights: green evergreens
black along the side of the highway. Silence that can sing a song
whose echoes can be heard from far
away as here

to make a record of the season
precipitate decisions on the page

headlight rhythms or the all-time high for this date

early winter rains get into clothes and won't go
"least I don't have to shovel this stuff"
says the wide-eyed taxicab driver
as he arrives. As he arrives he leaves falling
water on coat sleeves sounds of no thing & resounds. She plays
the electric bass to a smiling Jesus who cannot be seen. Sings loudly
or softly into a microphone rejoicing. A weightless grace is on the room
traces the line level hum

surface texts & textures / pine bark paper birch road dirt
diffuse day automotive yawn disremembered elder hwys. 16 & 97
telephone poles: numberless

gutter disperses all drops down into the drainage as the lungs
heave & ask what can be expected

disappearing takes children out of no field here is where you
imagine the nearby park Carrie Jane Gray perhaps

transparencies scatter light very little
over time over time over time over time

the law came to me
in a dream I answered (then was answerable--

"you love me" I can't feel so cold
until until. "I am in love with you" interminable moments.

Raked leaves together in my yard
the pattern the veins the words

teleological text seasonal narrative not to be repeated
except as fractal mis en abyme

photograph croons into a microphone

holds musical housekeys
jingling in the pockets

sees a man return to the river
and not return

lower pressure above us: continuous
inhalation / exhalation exchange changing
channels and rivulets exhaust clouds / forms cloud

naked without a clear mirror; fog breathing
forget nothing draw parallels face up

shower in the dark of winter being

when you are gone you will smile. I will
sing circularity feedback / ground loop sonic fire

here is a fadeout movie. Now walk into a snow-covered
parking lot a fadeout movie. Now walk in

two dissolving frames burn in the projector
beam cry if you want to cry. I laugh and cry

to a snow
parking lot. The downtown buildings need rustproof paint.

You are not gone. You are happy. You are
starting to see the frames become ashes and still

know the names of streets of trees
I hold hands with you & see the projector

want to tell you about the movie but when
will there be time for us talking?

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