There were many, many
colors, mostly gold
I felt heart rings
gold – metal – the bowl, I guess
and then I saw.
We said words;
a patchwork was
built. Kristin said
not like the rest”
I barely remember my
words. But one was lightning
Iris said Keats
I said lightning
Heard things that weren’t words at all.
I translated them.
I went across a channel.
I was fed and I ate.
What do you want that you could not attain?
It was all within the field.
I was starving – not for food.
I was still a woman at a typewriter.
I was still
waiting and wishing.
Pastels and metals washed over me.
Naming: floor, gold, lightning.
Nouns upon me.
What was that?
What’s my story for that?
The violence of the world
that I can not ignore.
It’s here and I can name it.
The sap that falls onto the grass
is the same
sap that wanders through
my sandaled toes
What I hear is not
what you hear & OK
break down the washed faucets
Turn them off but drops still fill the basin
Still this basin watches you
& in your heart
you learn you’re not golden
or a toxic alloy
poisoning the supply
Hearing a unification
& when the bird calls
it’s doing its fine work—
but we hear it as a song.
Movement, fear of dying alone
“A Woman Alone”
Thinking about the world
absent of my immediate concerns.
how to live
Reading Barthes’ lectures “How to Live Together”
I hear a knock on my door
fears are still fears
Unknowing is more OK
On the TV show “Three’s Company,” the character Jack Tripper, played by John Ritter, lived with two single women named Janet and Chrissy (who was later replaced by Cindy). Jack had to pretend he was gay around his landlord Stanley Roper (played by Norman Fell) who was replaced by Ralph Furley (played by Don Knotts) because otherwise it would be indecent for a single man to live with two single women.
My sister Molly and I loved the show for its slapstick humor and nonsense jokes.
Janet looks for Chrissy and Chrissy leaves the room a second before Janet enters
and Janet leaves through the back door as Chrissy (or was it Cindy?) returns from the kitchen
And this could go on for twenty minutes as Jack looks for Janet. Jack looks for Chrissy.
Janet is locked outside nude. She waits outside—a woman alone—until her roommate returns home.
We loved it.
Janet was the very picture of Eve in the garden of Eden, tree branch and hand blocking her chest,
bush protecting her bush.
My father was reading the show on this level of bawdy humor, double and triple entendre, interpretive devices.
His face would enter the room red after a long day and turned off the show each time.
He was mad at the TV and even my mom for letting us watch it.
Never mad at us. The indecency of this show has changed over time: pulling the sweater over the landlords’ eyes?
Hiding being straight? In a world that still mistreated those for loving who they loved?
Because income inequality prevented each young person from getting their own apartment?
The right to lay your head where you lay your head?
Now oceanic blowholes show me
what’s around the stars.
I see lichen in the sky
darkness surrounds further darkness.
I am released in threes: to stand in my own glory,
to be a fleshy monster of unknowing, and
to ask what darkness is.
The sky’s hook of greeting
creates new holes of moments in the light.
Learn on your tips.
Braid your hair like the garlic it could be.
What is darkness?
Once I showed my class some video art of Mount Vesuvius
erupting. It did not go as planned,
and that was a risk I had to take.
I purged myself into a cloth into the air.
Time to write a prose poem
in which I try to explain myself.
When John Ritter died
as a middle-aged man,
tragically, too soon,
My father sent a lovely note
to Molly and I stating:
I’m sorry for your loss. I know you never watched the show Three’s Company, but I'm thinking of you today.
I see the rolling hills today,
and some people are simply unreasonable.
And the days go,
I can’t be the giant pillar alone
so I release my chronic mask
and land where I do
The drama and affect falls off
and this is what’s around the stars
today and I’m thinking about you today.
Come and knock on our door.
We’ve been waiting for you.