The porch

clogs ? and lacking tunes aplenty,

Soothing Este speaks of brotherhood and hanuman and monkey heart and I remind her of his leap and my teacher reminds me of mind's own monkeys and we in turn remind each other

What it is like to live this way 

to read of Alexandria before its plot to hear war cry and move to Switzerland before it starts to not savor too much the paltriness of nature rendered conical in thrust, gleeful mundane reciprocities great lake bouncy castles believe first, pretend later how 

signing is indeed enough, when a picture is no substitute for anything (lawler on the fridge waves off)

I am fine except I watched felled eagle breathe and wished aloud if only she would stop 

to be felled is not the problem, extant as was cost us dearly cost

our splendor, my audacity

I believe what is in my heart so I believe ineluctably 

edging cabinet, poorly aged, expansionist frost: no strength in withholding he says, if here alone agreeing

right, I say, this week there is no death (double napped)

I am all in on everything 

show me 

(in olden days: we have to dance to dream it. Writing—what then did I mean?)

Like this we say, we can only take so much, no, add more, bring everyone to tent, our house, to clothe and feed them, Viridiana—that is, there is no them, we are all outside, tent is all us, so it is not for fear I offer here these blessings just the opposite 

and to insist on freedom, I insist on viriditas, on counting back to baby breeched and open body and a decision, mine, maybe, to accept (was I correct?) such an insipid state of this too love, divine as human being

valves

Shut off the ears and turn out the eyes, here is how it goes, this grief

A little night music

 A little mansplaining

Kindnesses

Things I am trying not to think, such as, wishing a happy couple’s therapy to all women in chore coats this szn

Y I paint

To be here in the now, with You. And, above all, innocence, again.

Excerpt II and temping

It was dark when you came, dark enough to smell your seed. To smell the seed I shell, ingest, spit out before me. No, really, before you, for you, before the people and the mount, before the swarming boggle eyes of the cattle congregation, the children, yes, I pause them, tell them, watch me, watch me swallow without feeding watch me spit bright nuggets from black, taxed seed; watch how clean seed charred with life becomes the seed of dusk, seed of a cloth-bound light so far ahead your faithless fathers named it Eden.

Lissome

The end of sacrifice and the approach of the true temple (Milton—heart). Bowen, no love’s death. To learn body in all its uses. This morning thinking of what is recorded in, on me, so as to serve You.