A found poem and a collage for a rough beast slouching towards...


A collage by me:


And an anonymous poem (written with a red pen)
found on the sign-in sheet from one of the groups
I facilitated at the hospital last week:

__________________President Money
__________________President Meat
__________________President Wallet
__________________President Time
__________________President Pan
__________________President Home
__________________President's Mummy
__________________President Clothes
__________________President Radio City Music Hall
__________________President's Son
__________________President's Law

__________________________ Always And Forever

The heavens earth spirit earth
earth place it so own day earth separate
and rule in separate evening
face rule of morning
let evening god evening night day separate

and night day
and put own creatures rested yet plant herb and lord
without rule in the it no god sight
without heaven into creatures heavens
the heavens earth moving said evening let vegetation each so
moving in god heaven there
without evening let let
heavens and void evening
spirit

Division Street Collage

Taking for scraps Rimbaud
And the dusk's light
The angle of incidents
Marches right up here

If it is birds then it's something
If it's words then it's nothing

Put two things in the opening
And begin to measure on time
I speak only and ancient
Movie vistas open up when you're not
Looking carefully trace the brighter
Wholes to the first
Put everything in the fore
Ground

Created
In the first
With a cherish
Created it in the
Second behind
The hearse with the body in it
Like another book
Modeled on a first I've never seen

To have fallen completely
In love with the day
Do you jewel my name
or maybe more
To remember uncouth
Counter of times
Disengages
Until winter disenchants
All angles to chance
And determinacy

Like backing up into a bright wonderfold
Or walking through dusk
With an eye to the ground
Another on the sky up there
On
Old Shit Eye
Turned backwards
He barks lovingly over the day

He barks lovingly over our day

Smiling like all dogs
Frowning like all jealous gods
He barks longingly
Over the day

Taking for scraps Rimbaud
And the winter-light
In this collage
I have fallen completely
In love with the day
And watch it jewel my name
Making more to remember

Remember
Sound overlays sound:
Separation becomes easy when
Dusk leaves a siren-traced imprint
On the city

A money gesture called a wind
in her house
with the windows open on doubt.
Can you count the levers?
Some are in her hair.
Others belong to the season.
All for the use
of a baby born
with burnt fingers.
Two reasons with wine
and she was in the driveway
again. The cement was talking.
L.A. would make a change
for her. Tunneling under
the suburbs she caught
a wind in her hair
and it felt like money.
Not much of a desire
towards the war
or her own particular history.
Out beyond the airport
they were putting roses
on dreams.
The puddles grew soft
around the edges,
the levers went up and down,
sirens counted rain drops.