Haven't let go of yesterday until the need to get something get it down in the other room he is invisible thread I drew a line many lines on brown paper to "Hellas Planitia" nothing is finished or fully known but by rough gestures upon a surface and by hand Lines: ...because Juana never faltered from living her Truth even as lies snuffed the votive lights in her --- Eileen R. Tabios, "La Loca," The SINGER And Others: Flamenco Hay(na)ku, p. 53.
Just back from a trip to San Francisco to participate in APIA (Asian Pacific Islander American) panel on avant garde poets and poetics, with Truong Tran, Jai Arun Ravine, Margaret Rhee, and Eileen Tabios — hosted by Barbara Jane Reyes and Samantha Giles of Small Press Traffic. Of course I’m familiar with Eileen (who was in fine mettle this evening), and really enjoyed getting to know more about the work of the other poet/artists. I also met Robin Tremblay-McGaw of xpoetics.
This country mouse doesn’t get up to San Francisco often, these days, and I have to admit that I miss the incredible creative and innovative energy of the poets and artists of the city where I was born. I plan on going to more readings and art shows there in the future. It’s always inspiring.
Alright, an egg has a life of its own, and yet is food in that we are all food; as we consume others, various others snack on us, even as we head toward that final place-setting in the soil (pause to flick an invisible creature from my eyelash). Who isn’t “avaricious”?
Speaking of inevitabilities — I have a question for you: does the word “obviate” or “obviated” appear in all of Ms. Tabios’ books? Several times? What does the text obviate?
As a victim of “dry eye” syndrome, I know that a tear can ease the movement of, if not ward off, pain. Soften the skid.
Chapter I Her lid fell like a wave. A tear obviated the wink. Thus, did she become my horizon.
I think of the horizon of the poem, which is the horizon of breath and will–or accident. And the horizons of novels pretend to go on uninterrupted until reaching an “inevitable” conclusion; whole in themselves, supposedly.
"His cock was midnight."
The conclusion is a red skull and, Oh! How it lit up that
corner of the room!
Where a staircase led up to a higher part of the wall and it is a greedy disillusion that would sculpt that impassive space into a Door.
And yet something so soft as a cloud will lead bone astray. When my cloud plant turned silver and died, I had to admit — I knew not the least bit about plants that live on air and steam alone. Does that compute?
On the other hand,
Lindt, white chocolate truffles
out of context still have their pull. Small offerings, as if to stave off anonymity or death.