(no subject)
hallucinating palm under sweater, with
body heat fossilized through flash carbon alarm clock imprint
swimming through each cotton loop stitched over daylight curtain
because in computered hum across lucid air current,
i studied botany through your morning dew sunrise
plotting out trig points in the grain of your bark
uncovering fingerpaint anatomy landscapes and
binary prisms across blanketed whisper
--
--
(i feel i just need to post this. is it finished? i don't think so. no, definitely not. i'll post it again when it is. but i needed to see it in the context of a frame. oddly enough, i wrote this one morning in my "eng 413: teaching/tutoring writing" class. then, i went home, started feeling everything i wrote in the poem more intensely as i was adding to it on my computer screen, and finally, went to work and i had a full on fever.
barely made it through the day, came home, laid down, and canceled the rest of my week as i was left to sweat out 103 degrees of hallucinations and moans and a whole world of introspection. this was intended for dominic when i started it, intended to create a sacred space for us inside this poem. instead, that warm space became amplified and tested to the extreme as he literally did keep his hand on my stomach and watch over me in bed for several days.
how can this poem resolve? i think just as i sweated out that fever, i need to seriously sweat out this poem. it's boiling right beneath my skin. so, comment. rip it apart. help me get well.)
--and by the way, i'll post a larger e-mail soon, but i am scheduled to be visiting most of you in philadelphia, in about two and a half weeks. so that means y'all better clear your schedules NOW
body heat fossilized through flash carbon alarm clock imprint
swimming through each cotton loop stitched over daylight curtain
because in computered hum across lucid air current,
i studied botany through your morning dew sunrise
plotting out trig points in the grain of your bark
uncovering fingerpaint anatomy landscapes and
binary prisms across blanketed whisper
--
--
(i feel i just need to post this. is it finished? i don't think so. no, definitely not. i'll post it again when it is. but i needed to see it in the context of a frame. oddly enough, i wrote this one morning in my "eng 413: teaching/tutoring writing" class. then, i went home, started feeling everything i wrote in the poem more intensely as i was adding to it on my computer screen, and finally, went to work and i had a full on fever.
barely made it through the day, came home, laid down, and canceled the rest of my week as i was left to sweat out 103 degrees of hallucinations and moans and a whole world of introspection. this was intended for dominic when i started it, intended to create a sacred space for us inside this poem. instead, that warm space became amplified and tested to the extreme as he literally did keep his hand on my stomach and watch over me in bed for several days.
how can this poem resolve? i think just as i sweated out that fever, i need to seriously sweat out this poem. it's boiling right beneath my skin. so, comment. rip it apart. help me get well.)
--and by the way, i'll post a larger e-mail soon, but i am scheduled to be visiting most of you in philadelphia, in about two and a half weeks. so that means y'all better clear your schedules NOW