The Particular Feeling

 Lay bare the laying bare of it all
The flattening landscapes of it all
The into my eyes of it all 
The winnowing pages that make up a life of it all
House the moments of it all
This reality being of it all
The me because of you of it all
Our being but nodes embedded in an infinite web of causes and conditions of it all 
The infinite web being this infinite web of it all
The Deborah Hay of it all!
The deleted apps of it all
Unburdened by the veracity of it all
The shards of myself falling to the fake-wood floor of it all 
Growing tired of it all
The endless birthday of it all
The rarity of it all
The predictive text of it all
The finance bros dictating texts on the train of it all
The modern dance of it all
The modern dancers of it all
A world becoming specific of it all
Surely not of it all
When Merce Cunningham said, “There’s nothing abstract about this technique. Because it happens in human beings. As soon as it happens in human bodies, there is nothing abstract about it.” When he said that, I felt that. 

The more you look the more you see

If you told me all about me I probably wouldn’t know what you’re talking about

If you told me everything about me I would have no idea what you’re saying

When I look at my body it means I am a looking body
I am unconcerned with how I look
I am only looking

I am looking at everything that is not me but is not you

I have all the time I need

I am unconcerned with tiring myself out or proving that dance is here

I am very young and very strong

The entire universe is not even something to look at but something looking

I am completely committed to what I am doing even if I do not know what it is

I am purely in time and that is enough for me

I am okay with losing everything because I am looking at losing everything 

I count or become human 

I reach and swerve  and nothing turns me away from myself and my looking

To lose everything you must first be willing to lose everything
Half the fight is all the fight
A total willingness to lose everything
And protect what I have lost
Memory of the past is like a saviour to some 
I am learning to do that thing that I did before
To do the thing I don’t believe in requires so much effort …
To be the thing I am requires an attention pancaked and crystalline like a ballerina’s face 
No disaster in my life there are no disasters in my life
I am looking at the disasters in my life and I do not see them 
I am only looking

Time is a Natural Disaster

 1.

Standing up is very close to falling down. Up is just a certain kind of down.

2. 

So the title comes backward in time. Like video of a melting ice cube played in reverse. A shower made of falling. A self-annihilating character. 

3. 

"There's no fictions in it."

4. 

I'm standing in a hallway

I'm standing in a hallway looking out a windowed door

I'm standing in a hallway looking out a windowed door you're approaching 

I'm standing in a hallway looking out a windowed door you're approaching with a letter

5.

Lay bare the laying bare of it all

The flattening landscapes of it all

The into my eyes of it all

The winnowing pages that make up a life of it all

The modern dance of it all

The modern dancers of it all

6. 

––I just want to swim in the brook.

––You're so wild.

––If that makes me wild, then I just want to swim in the brook and I'm so wild.

7.

There's nothing wrong, there's just this moment. Even your thinking of something wrong is just this moment. This moment is all wrong and just this moment. This moment just this all wrongness and nothing wrongness is just this moment. There is always a house for it as long as you are alive. Thinking of time and you in it and all the alacrity and routs of the day is just this moment. This moment is a house made for using. 

8.

What makes this reality this reality? 

How am I opening my eyes to it every time?

9. 

I am here due to the kindness of so many.

That man who handed me paper towels at the club also handed me my life. This moment.

The fact of that old woman wearing a t-shirt with "God Belongs in My City" is the reason I exist. Everyone else is. 

10.

I think we all just want to feel sometimes like we're doing something we're not supposed to. 

11.

Growing cold you're growing cold

What do I want for my birthday you ask?

I want a world where I can look back at myself like watching video of a melting ice cube, played in reverse. 

12. 

The character I play when everything is not okay. Burgling and shaking and erupting and texting.

13.

I'm not in therapy for this. Repeat until it loses meaning.

Sanford Meisner

You're shattered by me

You don't get me

You patronize me

You're killing this

You don't want to reveal yourself to me

I make you nervous

You're not in this

You're mocking me

You don't believe me

I think you're hearing things

You're not seeing me

You're shattered by me

You don't even mean that

You didn't really give me much

Touchy subject, huh?

You took that in

You resented that

That cut you!

This is bullshit

You're just saying that

You think that's ridiculous

You're weighing everything

You know that

You're guessing

You're not hearing me

This is dead

And?

You don't wanna hear that

You keep looking down

You're just saying that

You're such a fucking bitch

You don't care about me

You sound like a machine

You're killing me

Nothing makes an impression on you

That doesn't do anything to you

How dare you?

Nothing you say or do makes any sense

You're not even really answering me

That's not okay with me

I don't like that

That's nothing

I'm nothing to you

Don't ignore me

Take me seriously

That's not a question

You're like some proud queen

You had to consider that?

You're not sure if you can trust me

You think I should trust you?

Did you just have a stroke?

Your Best Moments

"Your response isn't only your words"

What responds 
To responds

Wrongs respond

Greasily responding

Total responds

Retracting in to your self responds

The military responds

Waiting responds

Failed to respond

No responds

Distract responds

Unrequited response

Chignons respond

Loping respond

The city respond

Complete responds

Postmodern return

No grammar of us no more me in theorizable sight only a site for more and absent all my work is all my life he you we are how and so nothing of them to persist or retain only remain if and only if these hands shortening to time doored fraying not ordinary but wigged or protrusion off ending nor traceable ginger giver girl live alone a beautiful place to take your eyes off me put my response in the inbox reuse dignifying thought and we. Though you are now, algal and loping as always. If for, then three.

It is true we undo each other

Our rooms decorate us

It is true

You brought with you an aspiration for the silver screen
Stowed delicately in your silver purse
Stringed

And loping
You travel a direction
Fated to be multiple

A Californian for a girl slung a carefree arm through mine on one of the first warm spring days. A true warmth, the kind that makes you want to kayak. At that point I had no superstitions about writing about the past, and a lack of interest in prophetic lines. Immediacy, orgasm, drugs, that life precedes my lateness. The Californian (she) didn’t pretend or flinch. She drank a canned beverage as she made offers. I conceded to her strange ways in all modes except sexual. A romance bloomed between us through winters and springs. I wonder if my two Californian friendships benefit from the coastal time difference. The 2 times. Now, she maps her route with regard to water and wisdom. I strive to become a better listener. Less anxious, I think. We contact each other from time to time.