Sheila - I like 'the feel' of this, so brought alive by the shifting inner-play of syllables. A kind of wisdom in it that, unforced, emerges from its own substrata (knowledge, memory et al). I might, as with Max's dog poem, drop the last word, no abstraction required!
I am going to see a film next Friday night about Lorine Niedecker - your piece, I find, echoes the textural feel of her work. Do you know it, her work??
Stephen Vincent
http://stephenvincent.net/blog/
--- On Wed, 3/3/10, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
From: Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]>
Subject: a vivacity of nocturnes
To: [log in to unmask]
Date: Wednesday, March 3, 2010, 7:46 AM
what lullaby resides within
when wholly-owned sub-
strata quicksandalwood
a way through domiciles
and commisaries and
estate sales fathomed
as a last
endowed
resort
impervious to latitude although
the longitude will
remain among us
now that our plain children
cease to mollify
mundanity while we project
these tissues of importance
that surround routine
listen to the Dutch elm
breeze shake childhood
from familiar breezes
(one speaks of porches
in a handful of small
conversations)
and the land goes soft
upon the thought
of land, the hills
beyond en-
close us amid
imagined space appearing
gently to be modifying
itself and others of us
all across the acronyms
for substances
to be resisted
or approached,
abused some summer
when the look of
pavement holds heat
for the duration, and a side
of affection holds still,
holds true,
holds even water
for the heart
to mind the existential
looking seeming sounding
store of recollections
sheila e. murphy
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