JULY 2021
If you are, as I am, a gypsy,
draw a border around me:
make me your country.
流溪’s magical binding—knowing what immensities are lying beneath a single gentle barrier of paper.
I am imagining this world but I’m inviting you in
So I can join you.
things from across the pacific making their own passage as I had made mine
what objects have to hold about the world they know
kiyohara tama and her reconciliation of separate evolutions, as if nothing in the world can ever stay hidden from each other.
It's hard to see what you're seeing with, to see what being is as an activity through the instrument of whatever-it-is we have being in.
summer never ended, the damage was all mine
the inimitable, indefatigable partnership between tsai ming-liang and lee kang-sheng. the quiet sovereignty of knowing that a lifetime of art can be made by looking closely at one thing—one person—one face.
spoons of papaya and melon in the sunshine
the near-ghostly contours of an empty room, anticipating almost the life that it will eventually come to hold
dolce & gabbana’s reverent and opulent alta moda
always coming back to “poem for haruko”
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
dancing on the counter & waking up with horribly bruised knees
ezra pound: man reading should be man intensely alive. the book should be a ball of light in one’s hand.
ennio morricone’s resplendent rises and falls
then telling be the antidote finding its home, and the process begins of letting these poems go where they seek, into the lux perpetua of curiosity, onward
major jackson conducting that proverbial tide of poetic legacy with philip levine
perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...
joseph brodsky’s soft sureness of what literature can do
cantaloupe and fuchsia perennial stalks cut from mama’s garden
Wild honey smells like freedom
pater and his knowing penetration of all art subscribing to the idealisms of music, wherein the “perfect identification of matter and form” is the ultimate aspiration, which is to say, that all forms of creation is searching for that which has its way, has its place, has its method, and has its purpose
talking about wang xiaoshuai’s so long, my son in the car with my papa and being brought to tears by its force of memory
the manuscript in pieces on the floor in mystical cartography
lucy pullen’s silken ink-shapes
Two bodies face to face
are at times to waves
and night is an ocean.
(all of octavio paz’s miraculous diffusion of the world’s natural gifts in this language)
what water means in a film about loss
kirsten johnson speaking tenderly to her father in dick johnson is dead
the sun and what it does with the colours and what the windows do with the light and what the light lands on—I hope I’ll never get used to it
