Tuesday, September 9, 2008

an index of now

____But everybody wants to slip
____their flesh off like a winter coat
____and enter this familiar room
____that smells of gas and beeswax,
____where sunlight pours from the big window
____and the freighters move continually
____in the river's mouth.

________from: Once Upon a Time, Mark Haddon

INDEX [with adj] a number giving the magnitude of a physical property or another measured phenomenon in terms of a standard OF NOW:

why is there a tin of China green tea on this table?, equidistant between the far wall to my right and the near wall to my left (where the heater purrs its red-beaked warmth to my left ear, left cheek, left eye sees glare homo-optically; right eye swerves its vision past a partially ripped tissue, the mute phone, and peripherally my own knee, to stare at the closed front door's shadow and silence)

shadow and silence.
shadow and silence.
(as autumn creeps its way across the month, belly wriggling against moist green parks, hesitant clouds that sometimes scatter and fall like dizzy children tired of spinning to remind us somewhere else a sun stares through bus windows and drawn curtains and too-long eventless nights to see us, and holds out a

INDEX 1. an alphabetical list of names, subjects, etc. , with references to the places where they occur, typically found at the end __(of the book OF NOW:

Adelaide; from 10 to 21, you held my hand, ____and i ran along your beaches
Ashtree; untimed uncircumstantial unmisunderstanding

Beijing; see: memories of dreams misunderstood

Golriz; scattered flower/little flower
____ _growing flower/grown flower
____ _what is left of then but more of nower?

Haifa; see: the little balcony on the edge of a mountain that drips in white like sweating stars, or forgiving the petals of flowers because though brutal are the closest thing to human skin (at night i goodnight kiss a tulip's lips)
Home; Adelaide 1993-2003, Haifa 2004-2006, Los Angeles 2008
Homeless; Canberra 2003, Brisbane 2007, Los Angeles 2008
Homelessed; Haifa 10-Dec-2007
(un)Homed; title of possible novel/story/work of soi-autobiographical-falsifiction

Indigo; luminiferous flowers line the paths, walking to Brentwood i dodge the chairs hanging from trees as branches and leaves and too-beautiful young women walking their too-small dogs who stare at not.me as i stumble past, more concerned with the vegetation and i with the flora.

Mar; see Martha: somnambulist nocturnabulist, Seattleist, believerist, believe-in-erist,
breathe through this, pragmatist, concisionist, who said to me once this:

____I love you. You can do this

____to which i respond this:

____undeleted message this, stays in my inbox list, waits till we find a neater bliss
Monz; oh our lady of patience,
_____distance and... all that,
_____all that falls (and some that climbs)
_____all that waits,
_____among these patient cattle, you and i:
_____speaking through needed silences and remaining silent through needless words
_____all this... bastard life (though we call it other things)
_____and look towards today's horizon hoping to see tomorrow's sun.
Scared; see James Joyce: see Ulysses: see Stephen Dedalus: see "and I fear all those big words that make us so unhappy": see FEAR ___HOME ___NEVER ___BYE ___GOD ___MOM.DAD ___NEED ___DIE ___RESPONSIBILITY ___ALWAYS ___help ___FAIL ___FOREVER ___FAITH ___DEAD ___LOVE ___FUTURE ___LESS ___NO ___UNFORTUNATELY ___MEMORY ___SPIDER ___ILL ___FORGET ___LOST ___ALONE ___UGLY ___OVER ___DISABLE

Tomorrow; see again: see almost: see i can taste it: see... REDEEMED.


golriz said...

bedtime reading at its best.

x gol

alexandra said...