video assignment 2

between baltimore and st. paul and brooklyn, a video got made:

mutual satisfaction

a queen ant lands

Hello oracle, how are you?
a queen ant lands on top of my papers making a sound like a raindrop.
waving scattershot with dumb feelers for an indeterminate item lost,

hermit crab
trolling along the lines, miraculously
with her one set of flimsy see-through wings
hastening blindly to the edge,
she does not jump or fall,
she turns, feeling her way along the top of the stack of papers
looking for where to rest and lay eggs?
or lost, away from help and alone?
non-fiction persuasive.
she has crawled willingly onto my un-offered arm.
up the bare skin to the shoulder, then falling beside my hand onto
the spool, it seems she has forgotten her wings.
she stumbles determinedly up the metal lever then down,
over the serrated knob
towards the moving inside parts of the typewriter

Okay, must save queen.
it becomes a struggle- back to the sheets now for a picture.
she is more frantically agile now from my body heat.
she won't and can't sit still or smile.
hastening again towards the edge,
she drops under the page, lost and not found.
gone, finally fallen, alone.
really, I can't find her
and am afraid to move for fear that I might crush her.

promise this is a real post

a little bit sorry for having cold feet.

the first time, imagine ...........

here is a trade, this one has not been seen

but wait a while longer....

(expectantly awaiting)

but they are here now

so soon?

so what now? Quickly smooth wrinkles and stand straight.


contemplate the two roads the one eye

this is what we thought was rounding the corner.

in fact, it has hit.


it's been years since i've heard this.


the beginning

lifted a bit

We are wasted from this exile. Look at our faces.
But see how this wind heals us and smoothes our sighs. I walked out in the afternoon after it rained, down the sidewalk. I'd been inside so long the fresh air felt like a tossing sea bath for my hair and skin washing my nostrils and cavities clean. I could feel the sun behind the clouds and the wind lifted. I took off my sweater. I walked down the golden archway of locust trees raining golden leaves on me- a private regal moment for me under their offerings of spiralling chocolate pods nested in fronds liquidly palpating the shifting air, while unknown to the city world I walked half a block without touching the cement.

Keep writing. Keep going. I say yes to this ache. I want to touch beauty.
Oh god, I am filled with smoke and bees for you.

to where with ink

I've heard of that one,
of all the queens that ever shone, she is the forever bride
wading ankle deep in rainbow oil slicks
trailing her puppy trail, ink and torit grey sludge seeping up
the folds of costumegown,
a beautiful stain with fingers climbing the hollows

i've seen her, after the party as the day breaks across asphalt asphodel
her dress was made for her perfectly careless steps,
bare feet tracing the spine of the horizon
the hard ridges and bumps under the puddle

I've seen her with finger to mouth,
regarding the unseen word, blind all-seeing gaze

following the feel of feet rolling from heel to toe
heel to toe, one in front of the other, where will we go?

Where she goes, round the empty curved arc of flat land against
reddening void, through ankle-deep lukewarm liquid,
covering the surface of the land like skin

her back is to us, we see what she sees
the weight of her sasses to the right and left.
swaying forward and back, but ultimately forward.

SPIDER