To be a funeral, I planned that everyone be disappointed.
This way I managed so much time to think. Over the
stage rocks were displayed on a shelf, and the ceremony
was taking place below. Their shadows were there too,
on display. Nothing petty happened on the day. Words
had taken on the presence and some other qualities of
boulders. Proceedings were lulling and mordant, which
made me look like a genius. I couldn’t believe the
qualities I was reminded of. “This business is too sad,”
someone shouted, along the tables of cookies. I was
congratulated, patted on the back. I had used my devices
on her. Water was the only consideration, once again.
Perhaps steam. Turning toward the window was becoming
a specialty of mine, it came so naturally. There it was,
being looked right through. The plain was covered over
with weather. A deer was out there and it rained on it.
I am cruel but that’s not the right word.
I’m poised between two trunks of an
oak like the sail of an immobile ship. I
have seen the counselor; I thought about
it. Falling off mountains…no I was not
raised with that in stow. On those papery
Sunday afternoons we would, as a
family, transcend existentialism.
The wind, you see, at times is you.
There ruffling up the purple curtains.
All the Miles
Mary said she’s unhappy with how underwhelming life is.
I could agree with her, I had the ability to agree with her.
I have carried things miles before. There is still a surprise
element to life, at least at the outset, setting aside all
questions of whelmingness, was my position. My room
is untidy, my fortune is unfortunate. These things last.
Pears disfigured and rotting below healthy trees: it is a
beautiful sight and keeps up the disintegrating without
threatening what the sight looks like. At tree’s roots
is a safe place to lie prone. Some dogs and some cats
can be moved drastically and even negated, but by and
large putting “un” in front of something won’t make it
opposite. I bought a bracelet in Seoul that said: You are
not ugly. Now, really. The undead are frightening mainly
because we know they’re still dead. Otherwise you’re just
boarding up your house from regular people, which isn’t
unheard of. The Russian Orthodox Church speaks of God
in only negative statements, a testament to roundaboutness
and I don’t disagree. Sometimes things get up and fly
away into the sky, someone did that on a tin pail once
because there wasn’t any coal to weigh it down.
Dustin started writing in order to impress girls. It hasn’t worked yet, but here’s hoping. Dustin is working on an MFA somewhere, bitterly disappointing Donald Hall and Franz Wright. You pick your battles.4