Letter 21 – All That Dead Skin

 

Why does the urge overtake & result in a life

did the term rattled nervous vibrato carry any significance for you?

We flame from the undersides &

fall into a heaping quiver unable to recognize dawn.

 

Why skin when the shedding of it is terror – when

did the burning of it become commonplace   & replace black Labs &

we think reason – 29 years of coping spurting out a smiling hole we

fight she says to recognize our essence.

Why August & this particular Slaughter of hay & slow burning gardens

did the game become too commonplace?

I seek to birth myself & swirl w/ the starlings but don’t even

get the feathers to fix the altar or alter the white bones & place

in (or next to) the path leads out of

the shards of shiny white window glass    the

way it shatters  -  I’m jealous

of the speed & the nerves  &

a path back to sand & surrender    I hit the

floor w/ such force & won’t crack

I made a rhyme of skin & Slaughter   but only

wanted a memorable sestina    or a golf game    or

to freeze my little girl’s escape into womanhood  or

make at least a memory of slow August clouds next to

a snow-topped mountain the elk traverses    a

shirt out

of ether to wear as only a new presence would allow.

It all

seemed so simple & every day another gate

my head crashes into   my own endless web I’m wedded to a

sense of danger (a dancer) the ground sinking below the chop chop

of a military helicopter   all green & brown & broken

language is no way to solve this  -  stabbing

had

become my only recourse   but it’s me who’s bleeding.

 

8:53AM - 8.21.03

(Phrases taken from Dan Raphael Concerned With the Impact.)