fallen

drifts, and deep. suffocating baggage as it falls, falling. where are your green attentions among this whitewash? we can see the slant of air in brutal form, almost horizontal. almost as if you are the wind, stretching your arms on the mountain's downslope. but you are piling up. otherwise. this one's not a blizzard. all in all, I'm expecting to be covered twice.

sadness

Poet and social activist, Kari Edwards, passed away on December 2. I was lucky enough to have worked with her, though remotely, with the dusie kolektiv this past summer. I'm pretty much shocked, even though I didn't really "know" Kari. It seems to me that this is a testament to her power as a writer and as a person- that even people only loosely associated with her are astonished by her absence in the world. I came across this poem by her in Tarpaulin Sky which gives me chills- so beautiful and grating at the same time. I hope it's OK that I post it here. I extend my condolences to her friends and family.

kari edwards

let us say goodbye

let’s get serious, say good-bye, I love you, so long, been nice, someone's got to die, waiting for another on time, A-bomb. Cut off, collectively lost, as long as you believe in, as long as you think, as you believe in thinking in believing in . . . click your heels, repeat after me, we are not talking proxy portraits, or ideological traditional sophist, or single issue essential, or utopian politicians into an out of time, falling in and out of the service of “truth,” to another, for another, in love with “truth.” Repeating, you have to believe, you must believe, listen to the mother and father, read books and repeat after me, I can not represent myself, we must represent the not representative whole impossible to represent, the higher broader bigger blogger. So, let's get personal, get serious and translate violence into a form, wondering are there more morals coming? We all can not wait to read more of the same long neck gods talking to the pigs, the pigs to the horses, and the mysterious shadow making mysterious hand motions, waiting to dine. The tableau is set, you arrive, there is ample bread, plenty of plenty, translation disappears, there is no need for need, an argument begins, we all go hungry, start a war of wars, the divine majority sings creation creation songs in the celestial cathedral till dawn . . . we say good-bye I love you someone has to die.

sadness

Poet and social activist, Kari Edwards, passed away on December 2. I was lucky enough to have worked with her, though remotely, with the dusie kolektiv this past summer. I'm pretty much shocked, even though I didn't really "know" Kari. It seems to me that this is a testament to her power as a writer and as a person- that even people only loosely associated with her are astonished by her absence in the world. I came across this poem by her in Tarpaulin Sky which gives me chills- so beautiful and grating at the same time. I hope it's OK that I post it here. I extend my condolences to her friends and family.

kari edwards

let us say goodbye

let’s get serious, say good-bye, I love you, so long, been nice, someone's got to die, waiting for another on time, A-bomb. Cut off, collectively lost, as long as you believe in, as long as you think, as you believe in thinking in believing in . . . click your heels, repeat after me, we are not talking proxy portraits, or ideological traditional sophist, or single issue essential, or utopian politicians into an out of time, falling in and out of the service of “truth,” to another, for another, in love with “truth.” Repeating, you have to believe, you must believe, listen to the mother and father, read books and repeat after me, I can not represent myself, we must represent the not representative whole impossible to represent, the higher broader bigger blogger. So, let's get personal, get serious and translate violence into a form, wondering are there more morals coming? We all can not wait to read more of the same long neck gods talking to the pigs, the pigs to the horses, and the mysterious shadow making mysterious hand motions, waiting to dine. The tableau is set, you arrive, there is ample bread, plenty of plenty, translation disappears, there is no need for need, an argument begins, we all go hungry, start a war of wars, the divine majority sings creation creation songs in the celestial cathedral till dawn . . . we say good-bye I love you someone has to die.

fool

crystalline structures. she notices their girth and bites them. it sweeps her away and becomes her. this poem begins here, under the froth. calamine around your eyes and lips. you are stepping away, but carefully. not the gallop it was before. you left. we recall: I could hear it through the floor, her pitch a fallow soil. wheel wells attacked by spray. smattering of star, music, train. your lips on her but away. you ask me to cover, forgive. but no. I cannot cover the spread.