Tenney Nathanson
from Home on the Range 30. mending, new curtains to be put cook supper, task flat and was known enough no Buddha hiatus darker louder the pie screamed in his hand. He knew life to be wit- glad as if I self as if the belonging the sky screamed imploding in your imploding mouth, nothing to worry about now Trina clapped and waved from where she stood on touch. you've got both his shoulders pinned to the couch, terribilita, push pins, mustard greens the shirt laughing again smooth cool metal on her half-closed sighs money," she all mine. Every get you in bed the entire bakery raving now the bread tore its hair like cloudy sky the pie running down the street chased by seedless grapes goodbye what strange sixth sense stirred air, his eyes broke out from time to time, -chug, chug-chug, while it got deeper and the drill, once there was a 38. you are about to go to someone on my journey, believed this man, right but you are wrong. Not light, not wind, not the blossom twisting there, not hair blown out of place, rain, rock, shore bird Nowadays they say they are birth to death, it's when you look you see eight stars in a line inside the mountain, winking, his chest opened not yours in the midst of life and death. In the midst of and death, nonthinking into make speech, extreme and nonspeech extreme and flat, still, stone-like, stretched out under the sheet stone cold. you will get to be trouble free. edge. And do you They are drawn up into clouds and carried away, oxidation, Longinus flattened out into the small lake with no waves , just tiny ripples progressing among the intermittent reeds, small birds just a very occasional heron and a burnt log resting there, hollowed out, very slow slosh, slosh, light whir of wings. which is belief now sky and earth, rivers, unnamable nature of the empty body it's just this person, why turn your head. Very, very simply. 39. He was silent. as no dog before infinite fear with its own laws moving towards me, towards me alone. Crenellated light like a motor, heard far off across empty streets, shards of broken glass gleaming like the dream of fire that wakes in your hand he did not know my method, an unavoidable reproach which was palliated by the caution and self-abnegation which is pure theft. Teeth rustled in the box, like grass in sand, and the snake rose conjured like rain against the Sphinx's eye near its cold golden doxa into bloody conflicts. proof that the first generation was past, but none rose against it then, till sleet only, and dry driven grass, blown sand with light of the red sun lurid in every grain, each gaze driven before it too like sand and straws in wind, each wave, each unmoved mover expulsion from paradise, Consequently the this world irrevocable stain of shit and the cold beauty of stars. the road. the powers. yet old as I am to me that burrow stands melancholy, impotence, sickness, reply for-of freedom. of misery. denies. 40. This was the beginning this oneness holding a flower face cracked open in laughter Susan said, and told me "I hope your face cracks" that was Deer Park is a true man without of the face of every yet provoked him, look, asked "What him away darkness ripening now, the winking stars expunged till the snake's huge jaws unhinge and right here reposes the little deer holding the ribbon in the cupped invisible hand of Guan Yin, the air and the breeze the readiness of time without being, years the mesa which looked like the bottom of the bowl of sky till you drove further, looked down to see another floor spread way below you, dry dead sea rippling waves of light alive I built many temples that we will be We have little sand urchins, flotsam, froth of tiny waves, echoes ripples buzzed whispers crotch and vine, and remember silkthread, but the little dissolving fingers, tongues, of the sea now moon rises Tao is reflected, even my age bright the ground three times sea's breath gate.