Moving blues

[kitchen_kink]

One thing I kind of hate about moving is the way it brings up old stuff, all the memorabilia I'd shoved into drawers, old love letters and cards, sentiments no longer true but so true once, once.

By some brilliant stroke of irony I also dug the below poem out of my desk drawer in the course of packing, and it seemed appropriate to reproduce it here.


MAY DAY

I've decided to waste my life again,
Like I used to: get drunk
On the light in the leaves, find a wall
Against which something can happen,

Whatever may have happened
Long ago - let a bullet hole echoing
The will of an executioner, a crevice
In which a note was hidden,

Be a crag where a struggling tendril
Utters a few spare syllables at dawn.
I've decided to waste my life
In a new way, to forget whoever

Touched a hair on my head, because
It doesn't matter what came to pass,
Only that it passed, because we repeat
Ourselves, we repeat ourselves.

I've decided to walk a long way
Out of the way, to allow something
Dreaded to waken for no good reason,
Let it go without saying,

Let it go as it will to the place
It will go without saying: a wall
Against which a body was pressed
For no good reason, other than this.


-Phillis Levin

Comments

[wabi.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the collage, Kam! I had completely forgotten about that. It's weird to think that it is 10 years old. When I was doing a lot of mixed-media things a while back, I always wondered about the longevity of materials like that. Now I guess I know the answer.

Glad you like the new haircut. I'm still trying to get used to it myself. I've had long hair for 10 years, too.