Whenever I was in a poem I knew
that other poems would take part
and would have already been other
parts of the universe.
- Duncan ( in a letter to Robin Blaser )
Today was a day for hopscotch-playing in a timeworn fold of Jacket
And, from the now-defunct Fascicle: Geraldine Monk's Collaborations With The Dead, wherein the dead are called to rise, ponder current events, then compose collaborative poems with her.
... [A] breath between
tooth and
beak
if
I
could mouth a sound
to form an
I
it would say
my claw
my claw
has been
hurting for days -
if I could count the days -
I would call out for drugs.
