Читать книгу The Sleep That Changed Everything - Lee Ann Brown - Страница 10

ESTIVATION

The way flower petals lie in the bud

or

to pass the summer in a state of torpor—compare HIBERNATION

this vegetal pregnancy

Faces and forms, I would write

you down

In a style of leaves growing.

(Louis Zukofsky)

Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well,

Under the snow and ice, under the darkness, in every square or

cubic inch,

Like babes in wombs, latent, folded, compact, sleeping

(Walt Whitman)

I want certain

words

more than a thousand flowers

(Cibo Matto)

Convolute

all our hypertridimensional lives

Involute

Curling heart

You’re all wrought up

But any to open

at ready given moment

A byzantine course description

A wild menu moves the feast to violet

blue

milky

We must curl in reverse

We must curl in cruelty

We must eat

(Lyn Hejinian)

O my little Contradiction what terms

like Cover and Sleeper

can’t rejoin broad daylight over

a former part of life

now seen as mystery data via the

departmental arts

I mean to vie for

Being a Sleeper

The idea cringes to be called that.

What if paper were longer?

Wincing, he winges, so winged.

An involute trip through

in search of your own part

Forms of unfinished estivation

Flip in as in Neuromancer

the floral clock

sidereal

Available light

or light while there is light

Why privilege any one

bead of the necklace

or borrow a boring music?

50 curls

then

The sidewalks of Winesburg, Ohio

roll up in a spiral

having been wound so closely around their axis

His Insulators are of the varigated lingerie variety

We bake screw muffins in the sun

Everything seems real decadent as the decade rolls up

In botany flowers continue to bloom

In the country, same thing

In geometry a curve is traced by the end of a taut string

when it is wound upon or unwound from a fixed curve

on the same plane with it

like the bright green bean vines wildly crawling up

An involving or being involved (entanglement or complication)

As when he said I had

“Byzantine ideas of human sexual relationships.”

I had to look it up when he left the room.

O you involute poets, yelping and mating

with your own kind on the rocky crags:

Don’t do the Poetry Slam!

Turning in on one’s self.

Think I’ll turn in now.

Turn into what?

Obvolute

Two lips link

in overlapping margins

Quincunx

Sucking on Mary’s Spoon

I was

Cat mound rests her place

What will happen next

a pregnant curl of a bloom

not new but

referencing other flowers