Since in a dream I’ve foreseen everything,
I disagree – since in my sleep I have or had
A point of view. In the world or in the past, I know
That I have climbed your tower and fallen to the fields
Or streets a hundred times, or drowning seen electric serpents
Writhing on the surface of a lake. I half suspected
Then that it was real, but lost it in this retrospective mood,
This vague connection with the world. Sometimes, the recollection
Of a fruitless correspondence. Or how with easy unconcern
I had routinely shuffled through the dirty streets of North West 10.
A house, a birth, a whole fragmented history, and so…the world
A <i>kind</i> of world, a half-way thing…
seeing inward
naked resonance
no guile
no sneaking misery
opening
rows and rows of promises
fulfilled
arcing light emerges
from darkest night
aching to know
unadorned truth
I used to walk with my head in the clouds but I kept getting struck by lightning!
Now my head twitches and I drool alot. Anonymouse
her clouds protected her
and in the evening
she danced amongst them
<b>Party Guest:</b> I finally had an orgasm, and my doctor said it was the wrong kind.
<b>Isaac Davis:</b> You had the wrong kind? I've never had the wrong kind, ever. My worst one was right on the money.
I was not
aware of
me there,
until now,
far from it,
longing for it,
staring at it,
spinning out on it,
for days and days
in fast forwards,
to the end
of it,
only to go further,
spilling backwards,
unwounding,
to the original
wide open joyous spaces,
of beginning.