Friday, April 2, 2010

The Poem & The Cake

I was going down a river lulled
by the 21st century.  I was staring
out of my compound eye
with monochromatic vision.
I was turning in the folio. I was eating.
I was ultramarine with flaming ideas.
I took your picture
without any flash.
I take your dark picture with me.
Only the European dog
behind the wall
knows. And the rooms
are narrow, but the self
humongous, trembling   
over a pile of dust
throwing a tantrum
that carries into the dawn.
Where is the family name?
Like a ruby
in a locked box; like a leaf
in a box of Japanese beetles.
If I break enough plates
someone will come—I have seen
the low planets differing; the marvelous
flicker of your sex—
The ancient clouds move
over the alcoholic sky.
I have seen the grey beards
of Northern Florida.
Swam with the sea cow.
I have listened to brief troubles
of the old, black cat.
I saw someone fuming
toward the abyss, drawing back.
And I, who was half asleep
for my one earthquake—
now merely fragments waking up
looking for the centre of the earth.
Not at all like the cultivated
sweetness of an evolved apple,
but one lone blue M&M
on the subway stairs.
Our love is one tendon.
One outpost. Our love
is a helicopter following us home
landing softly outside our window
waiting for us to undress.

The Essential Ruth Stone: Out Now!!!

I'm filled with all the feelings, my grandmother, my mentor--I am so honored to have had the chance to edit this book, to go deep into e...