COCKTAILS AT 8 marble floors eerily solid and real flowers dazzling, fragrant the rarity of some of the objects the hotness of the food a piece of china manifest both as cup and as fine interference if personal pain a luxury, everyone dressed haute couture colorful items about the head the triggers of sexual arousal gossip an elaborate version of phantom limb disease a crazy whisper enters the room memory dopples toward you her gown engolding heat and light its seamless hemline musical, wave formed of a male voice singing the vowel sound "ah" in her hand, on ice, transparency archetype with a twist in yours a cloud-built bubbling wet fingers resonant glass you make a simple, structureless point you gesture lines and whorls in your palm telling more than you realize of labor, ardor, self fabrication, appetite and its seizures soft clay of the body a milieu embedded in space the night is real and rich with process you hear much further a distance dinner is served an enormous body of evidence and some kind of holographic soup reshape the living flesh in ways that almost defy belief all experiences are reduced to the same common language the sound of a slaughter that had taken place here 9 years ago someone blows a puff of smoke, the problem of inertia you measure your absorption against an open oval window a little man speaks in your ear and it's not just a charming aside the dark intensity of such events gives them a higher profile something in the present which is implicate & moving toward making the future a library of all that ever was where 50,000 people screaming for 90 minutes can warm a cup of coffee the reason soldiers break their step when crossing delicate bridges Volume Two Index |
The East Village Poetry Web Betsy Andrews |