Jackson

I let my legs and arms come off and lay them in the dust My long muscles melt Fluid oozes all over the boards and out across the universe The head comes off the neck like a paddymelon from a dry vine in late summer between a fence and a highway, rolls away and falls Read more

When I looked in the book I found: Time is the temple—Time itself and Space— observed, marked out, to make the sacred place on the four-quartered sky, the inwalled ground. ——Ursula K. Le Guin, “Contemplation at McCoy Creek” If I’m good, Lord, if my karma serves, will you bring me back as a bass guitar? Read more

I hid all the clocks. Got up when I wanted, went to bed when I wanted, ate when I wanted. My brain wailed for its numbers. It’s hungry time, teatime, I said. Restless. Walk time. Tired. Bedtime. In the middle of the dark my brain demanded a number. Let’s lie here and see what happens, Read more