June 28, 2005


Let's go sleeping in the film room
with the new-smelling all-surface
carpet. The lens is a life here, our life,
and it lends credence to dreams
with rapid focus, abrupt transitions,
strangely plausible events, keen for detail
of the otherwise (unfilmed) mundane.
A montage of the conscious to stir there
a larger collage of sleep. We won't even take
off our shoes. Life is not taking off
shoes, it shows how to frame grandly
and call it by name. Our heads
droop and dip forward as we go
under; pray, eat, travel, and work hard
in our dreams. There will be a train,
an allegory, a woman with a lovely
figure, smartly dressed. We sleep fast
and cold in these stone and plaster rooms.

—from "Sleeping with Muses" by Daniel Bouchard


The other night I dreamed that I found this beautiful little doll in an antique shop. She was about 6" high made of opal sandwich glass. She had on a lace dress covered wtih opal sandwich glass little beads... I also dreamed a few nights later of a pair of tiny silver high heels about the size of a little finger nail.... The best thing that I found on the trip back [from Great Spruce Head Island to Calais] was a little doll (white) in a little bottle.

—Joe Brainard qtd in Ron Padget's Joe: A Memoir of Joe Brainard, and of which no words of praise can come close to relating the magnificent power of delight this book offers. And insight to the sweet measures of life in art and poetry contained herein. Compelling, etc, a "must..."


Saturday Morning May 8th 1802. We sowed the Scarlet Beans in the orchard I read Henry 5th there—William lay on his back on the seat. 'Wept, For names, sounds paths delights and duties lost' taken from a poem upon Cowley's wish to retire to the Plantations—read in the Review I finished Derwent's frocks—after dinner William added a step to the orchard steps.

—Dorothy Wordsworth, from the Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth


And come home again,
empty of pocket,

but finger full.

the hero wants only
to throw these findings

into a saucepan, the truest

nature of treasure

is modesty. Cook
the golden fish

in a familiar pot.
All that is precious

being so portable
as to be weighed

on one side or the other.

from "Treasure Chest," Elizabeth Robinson


that was when we lived on a farm and cared for all the little chickens and their eggs that was when we were constructing a nest from stray branches broken debris and lint from our hair dryer the clothes washer was working just fine and we were living on an island that was when we were opening a coconut with a blade and I was wearing a skirt of dried weeds some with their flowers still at my knees you had one hand at your hip the other to your side

from "A love story," Andrea Baker


I dream of Oaxaca
And the lean and haggard vigil
Born of love
I don't break laws
I reject civilizations

—Charles Potts from "I Dream of Oaxaca"

[ Books ]

like wind loves a window Andrea Baker
Kiot Charles Potts
Some Mountains Removed Daniel Bouchard
Plots David Meiklejohn
Eureka Slough Joseph Massey
Political Cactus Poems Jonathan Skinner

[ Magz ]

The Poker 6 D. Bouchard, ed.
The Hat 6 Jordan Davis and Chris Edgar, eds.
26 Avery E.D. Burns, Rusty Morrison, Joseph Noble, Elizabeth Robinson, Brian Strang, eds.

Posted by Dale at June 28, 2005 03:13 AM
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