fragment 18

confabulate as a way to genuflect,
the past only what it may have been,
a shimmer in dry corners of our eyes.

or remember as a way to draw maps
the passed only what just went by
a glimmer of our truths, not lies.

(in between i can’t help thinking
what if i were smaller, or larger
what if i were colossus of rhodes
looming over a very narrow spot.)

but don’t bother trying to explain
these things that don’t make sense.
read them quiet to yourself and laugh,
like the entire world missed the joke.

besides, there is relief in knowing
most everything except your own story
has been shouted out into the world
and now it is the how you tell it
that can light up the night skies.

(and if i could write this backwards
i would. and if i could write myself
to the top of an oak tree i would.
but there are some days when i can
barely write myself out the door.)

robert walser wrote “you have a future
only when you have no present,
and when you have a present,
you forget to even think about the future.”
(his preference: the latter)

reminded of walser’s words today,
i wondered what we eagerly expect
from all this panicky planning
shoved down our throats as the present
folds under into fodder for futures
perhaps better left forgotten,
dissolved in a day’s dreamy details.

Leave a comment

4 Comments

  1. Lots of fabulous things in this – confabulating/genuflecting; the how you tell it; Walser’s words; and your parenthetical musings. You definitely wrote yourself out the door with this one.

    Reply
  2. (and if i could write this backwards
    i would. and if i could write myself
    to the top of an oak tree i would.
    but there are some days when i can
    barely write myself out the door.)

    this is what makes the poem for me. love it!

    Reply

Thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

  • Recent Posts

  • Navigation Station

    The links along the top of the page are rudimentary attempts at trail markers. Otherwise, see below for more search and browse options.

  • In Search of Lost Time

  • Personal Taxonomy

  • Common Ground

  • Resources

  • BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS

%d bloggers like this: