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Gap Gardening Page 8


  11.

  Then Tamerlane’s wife

  kissed the architect on the mouth

  and painted a black stripe laterally across

  her forehead

  like other Uzbek women.

  12.

  No one knows a mirror.

  Representation

  I have no conscience because I

  always chew my pencil. Can we say

  white paper

  with black lines on it

  is like a human body? This question

  not to be decided by pointing

  at a tree nor yet by a description

  of simple pleasures.

  Smell of retrieval. Led to expect the wrong

  answer. An arsenal without purpose

  but why yes please.

  There is no touching the black box.

  The tree not pointed at lives

  in your bringing up the subject

  and leaves space for need, falling.

  The white ground. The waning heat.

  I’d like

  to say the history of the world. Or that grammar

  milks essence into propositions

  of human kindness.

  The difficulty here’s not true or false

  but that the picture’s in the foreground

  and its sense back where the gestures link

  so closely to the bone

  the words

  give notice.

  The application is not easy.

  a form/of taking/it all

  from Unpredicted Particles,

  or Columbus toward the New World

  laid down the equations

  and expected obedience

  or felt gradual

  but all the same expected

  At the wharf. The gulls were crying. And the sun going down behind the masts. Then the gulls stopped crying. It was evening, and she wore red stockings. Such little things.

  “the grammar of the word ‘knows’

  is closely related to that of

  ‘mastery’”

  the difference

  in a window

  in Genoa

  the window

  holds my breath

  the window

  the breath of possibility

  there where October

  once we let go

  of the frame

  the images wave after wave

  The assumptions about space and time in Maxwell’s theory could not be traced back to the Newtonian laws. It seemed to follow that either Newtonian mechanics or Maxwell’s theory must be false.

  for all he knew in Genoa

  unsteady atoms

  with fissures toward

  the ocean might end

  and fall

  imagined an encounter

  that couldn’t be imagined

  We must distinguish at least three axes in our relation to the other. There is, first of all, a value judgment: the other is good or bad, my equal or inferior.

  reading Marco Polo

  Columbus’ body started toward October

  water

  poured into the gap

  the push out of the frame

  out the window

  who are you now we’re all at sea it’s

  raining

  fine

  particles of

  traffic of past and

  incommunicable

  speed swung out from the bowsprit

  distance contracting

  in the curve of

  a look

  blue pulse of sleep lapped into

  the word water

  the globe

  wasn’t it more like

  water leaping

  a quantum nipple toward the sky

  a breast

  an early world

  in october there began

  the breakdown of structures

  where the word for prophecy

  means also law

  time becomes tangible as trouble

  “they waved their lives goodbye

  as the facts washed on shore”

  Secondly, there is a movement toward or away from the other: I embrace the other’s values or I impose my own culture on him (assimilation). It is also possible to remain indifferent.

  three easy toward undressing

  to see

  the past

  lost as new parts of speech

  question

  your whole

  different

  body

  How silent she was. She would neither talk nor weep. What was he to make of such a being that leaves no more trace than a snowflake in the middle of summer?

  the high speed of

  smashed to probability

  in love and how raw

  taking captives

  or naked surrender

  putting on his boots he had expected

  to walk into the mirror

  one of the and oldest

  The window was part of it too, the window where he first saw her. But had it been at the window? Or was this just the way he remembered it later?

  constant of desire

  and distances that don’t contract to

  energy

  mass

  religion gold or Spanish

  there where he spun his coin

  so fast it left behind

  the resonance

  of transfer

  In quantum theory the formal mathematical apparatus cannot be directly patterned on an objective occurrence in space and time. What we establish mathematically is only to a small extent an “objective fact,” and largely a survey of possibilities.

  transparency of glass and eyes

  deceptive

  but kin to water

  and that I can’t conceive of

  outside my images

  such very small

  such very different

  his heart lightly

  a relation described

  by the word “between”

  tomorrow closed over

  repetition

  of water

  in october

  put his foot

  on a flaw in geometry

  nakedness

  another opaque

  The limits of this field can never be exactly known. Only the discovery that certain phenomena can no longer be ordered by means of the old concepts tells us that we have reached the limit.

  the spies drew a precise map

  of the binary mutations

  the distance

  between memory

  but the king remained mute

  the information too steep too

  like you

  at the window

  not moving or

  moving only as required

  between encounter and

  transparency

  exacerbates

  the gap

  in the breakdown the right-hand spiral

  whereas October came straight

  at the foremast

  their name means “they who explain

  themselves clearly”

  a nakedness

  we changed to

  centuries of nostalgia

  These were all very slight experiences, of course, but they happened over and over again. And later they meant the opposite of what they had meant in the beginning.

  the window as a boundary

  the window onto

  no more
than swerves

  remote

  where are you now

  curved out of the still air

  yesterday

  curved out of the usable air

  and has no parallel where we’ve heaved it

  the window

  no more image

  a key into the language

  of america

  Chapter I: Salutations

  Are of two sorts and come immediately before the body. The pronunciation varies according to the point where the tongue makes contact with pumice found in great quantity. This lends credence, but no hand. Not so entirely Narragansett, the roof of the mouth. Position of hand or weapon conventional or volcanic formation.

  Asco wequassunnúmmis. Good Morrow.

  sing

  salubrious

  imitation

  intimate

  I was born in a town on the other side which didn’t want me in so many. All streets were long and led. In the center, a single person had no house or friends to allay excessive sorrowe. I, like other girls, forgot my name in the noise of traffic, opening my arms more to measure their extension than to offer embrace.

  the Courteous Pagan

  barefoot and yes

  his name laid down

  as dead

  one openness

  one woman door

  so slow in otherwise

  so close

  Chapter II: Of Eating and Entertainment

  Indian corne, oiled with free will and predestination is a dish exceeding wholesome if taken through the mouth. Their words, too, fit to eat. And crow. A mark of “cadency.” Similarly, an eye devouring its native region must devote special attention to its dialect. Where they have themselves and their wives risen to prepare. Against initiative of elements, against white bodies, against coining of new words: Tobacco. Unsuccessful.

  Mi’shquockuk.

  Red Copper Kettle.

  cycle

  chain

  for thought

  I began my education by walking along the road in search of the heroic. I did not think to ask the way to the next well. Wilderness like fear a form of drunkenness or acting like a boy. The ground begins to slip. Rhythm of swallows seen from below. It is a strange truth that remains of contentment are yet another obstacle.

  the spelling in my mother’s recipes

  explains

  why she gave birth to me

  and in the greatest heat

  should feed

  on me

  all flesh considered

  as a value

  Chapter IV: Of Their Numbers

  Without the help of Wall Street, how quick they are in casting up inalienable numbers. We do not have them. With help of hybrid corn instead of Europe’s pens or poisons. Edge of ingenuity, between numb and nimble, forest or frigid wave before it crashes. Let it be considered whether a split providence or separate encystments in their own minds have taught them. Or concentration, its circular surface. What’s called arithmaticke. A riddle on which matter rests.

  Pawsuck. Of the Masculine Gender.

  Pâwsuck. One of the Feminine Gender.

  Pâwsuck with time to dawdle, to cultivate lucidity and metric structure. Yet did not play by numbers. Too many messengers that do not speak. A bowel movement every day and one war every generation. I feared becoming an object too boring for my bones to hold up, however clumsily.

  nostalgia figured

  in bruised shins

  and loss

  loss of eternity

  in triplicate

  such that my knees

  could come apart

  and tell

  their seeds

  Chapter VII: Of Their Persons and Parts of Body

  Great bunch of hayre raked from darkness, yet as organized a physical substance as sober English. And can be photographed. In the brain, the proportion of quick apprehension to arable not less deep a structure than distinguished from limbs and labor or the central part of a docu­ment distinguished from title, nave, garment, soundbox or viscosity. Though childbirth will force christianity down the ladder into fighting units: women never forgive unparted flesh.

  busy

  guard

  snatcher

  snatcher

  I was shorn of illusion and impulse, though with a sorry knife, before touching amorous form. Where were my eyes? My heart was good and went to meet that difficult unfolding. Nudity in danger. All manner of man and of what bigness chased me to the bottom of my ignorance, desolately sublimating the fewness of wishes. Inexact report.

  My long blue birth

  snatched

  from what sense of deed

  what horizontal sleep

  whereas

  a virgin marriageable

  can slip

  like fog in anywhere

  Chapter VIII: Of Discourse and Newes

  Tidings on condition, a corresponding sign to sound which our geologists have discolored toward the vanishing point. Echo off yore, their preoccupation: if white men speake true or only to disturb the air. Even living in translation they deliver themselves at arm’s length with emphatic purpose according to stress and position and sometimes alongside it. The message, slowed down by change of climate, becomes obsolete. And understand not that a tongue must keep in consonant motion to cover up its fork.

  print

  worthy

  Pannóuwa awàun, awaun keesitteóuwin.

  Some Body Hath Made This Lie.

  Too long I took clockwork as a model instead of following the angle my inclinations make with the ground. Why speake I not, I should have asked, counting on articulation of sound forms in waiting. The restless oscillations stripped me of more mythic aspirations and left my muscles mendicant, destiny mani­fest, skeleton without closet. When it is here, when it is come, alone or in a crowd, the moment always a matrix of terrible and stupid. My tongue so tied. To mother. Never as clear as when straight impulse bends back into curve.

  comes as

  bait

  where speaking

  is still possible

  the messenger

  runs swiftly till

  no

  matter how

  he can’t forget

  Chapter X: Of the Season of the Yeere

  They have thirteen moneths and are content to settle for that many. The courage to grow organs in reply to want, the way a giraffe stretches her neck to mounting advantage. If seasons can force the day around the sun there is no end to threshold or shedding skin. The chief difficulty with nature’s outline yields hand-held exposures such as Tashecautúmmo. How Many Years Since fatal expression, since semantics, since influence.

  able

  ing

  Made to sleep on the balcony, I tried to lord it over the kids still playing on the sidewalk. My space eked out by height, with family prejudice to back me up. With acute daring I dropped a tin box the way you drop a plumbline down into sleep causing rings to widen out until a boy stuck his finger into the gob of spittle I had carefully placed inside. The shore fell into ruins.

  machinery in place behind

  hurt sharp

  enough to trace

  into the wiring of psychology

  a risk of

  membranes

  undercuts the alibi

  Chapter XII: Concerning the Heavens and Heavenly Lights

  Which they adore, above acknowledging
colonization. The stellar pallor attending powers shot madly from their spheres, the sky all over the earth, heaving its divine dimensions. If quickened circulation acts upon our thoughts, the moon so old it sets in full proportion. A light that does not slap you in the face, but raises nouns like navigation and transcendence. Nothing strange in pigment (black) that does not feed on side stars obtained by imperfect combustion. Rocks. Meteorites. Great Western Railway.

  opalescent

  celestial

  celibacy

  An inner heat, an inflammation, predicting intimacies to hurt your eyes. Expanse of bodies, heavenly, observed on lying in the fields. Frequent occasion. And measured by their angle much observed in motion, like the tin box tossed, sure curve belonging only to itself. Parabolas of the inanimate, these very children will throw stones.

  toward sunset

  the uninvited guests

  have guns

  and written off

  red skin

  they (mis)

  take territory

  for imperative

  the uninvited guests

  Chapter XIII: Of the Weather

  It may bee wondred why, New England being 12° neerer to the Sun, reality is yet in doubt. Some parts of winter act as lens owing to long reach as the Nor West wind comes under varying conditions and over loads of snow. If, when thin, the air unites the tribal factions, and a long vowel, more cold than overcast, runnes about starke naked, a climatic change occurs. American enough is all they know of atoms. Atmosphere windward like sexual feeling and as unpredictable, thick and vapory.

  beaten

  bound

  cock

  eye

  under

  My spittle overflowed literal expectations and was caught in flagrant light. Giggles sapped my resolve to leave home for unwobbling hyperbole. Inner darkness. Euphoric entropy. In a mixture of panic and mistaken gender I went West, intending the milky way. Common error.