I sat down to write

and realized, quickly, that everything I wanted to write I had already written.

June 25, 2008 : from my earlybloglove– blueplatespecial

One of my favorite poets, James Tate, has a poem entitled “Prose Poem” from a collection of poetry entitled “The Oblivion Ha- Ha”–released circa 1970 with the line

I am surrounded by the pieces of this huge

–it follows that Tate’s speaker, reduces his life to puzzle pieces that are immense and interconnected and yet wholly unrelated, describing different opposite parts of a whole.

And it is true.

past and future have their pieces, now and never-their own as well… each person, each empty apartment and future apartment, and discarded mattress and future park bench… pieces…

we wrestle, we are tormented somehow by these pieces but we are always present, always somehow manipulating them into order. we connect the blue and the blue-white and the white of the sky. connecting the brown of the road with the green of the grass and as we connect earth and sky and the red truck with the pond…we are somehow making it happen…
It seems that we are actively arranging these pieces that have been somehow already been splayed out for us.

I miss my old life and am grappling to create a new one. a new comfortable setting.
I can call this piece work and this one minneapolis and this one art and this one Adam and the other Eve, but they will change. Oh, will they change.

another line…

My head cocked toward the sky,
I cannot get off the ground,
and , you, passing over again,

fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well, or that it was mistake

that placed you in this world
and me in this; or that misfortune
placed these worlds in us.

it seems at first so sad- but it is sooo hopeful and at once relieving. to rely on someone else for fault at love’s lessons. to rely on Mistake and proper Misfortune for fault at life’s regressions, this is poetry. this is understanding the past as a happening neither good or bad but as something that did happen once. as humans we are unable to say it did. we can only say they, me , i –is it a language problem?
we don’t know.

I expect Simi to still be reading. Maybe just searching for her name (her piece/peace).

I needed to muse- I think I mused pretty hard here…

I just wanted to tell you
I remember you even now;
Goodbye, goodbye. Here come the cows.

and Oh, how they come.


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