Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Watching the tide roll away . . .

Monterey

August. I am sitting on the dock, reading, and you are lying on your turquoise towel, face lit by the sun. The lake rocks around us, ever ever, quietly.

These are the same green hills Edith
Wharton camped in while fleshing out the Ethan Fromes . . of the world.

Earlier, you said you would like to own two dogs, and while I was taking my walk up Chestnut Hill I thought about whether a dog might not have made Ethan's life bearable, if he'd have aspired to break away and marry better than he did.

Of course, Edith didn't marry all that well either, her shameless husband-in-the-garden-dancing, naked, in these hills of lunatic beauty.

All of this makes me aware of my own happiness. I am happy, happy and very much at peace here with you.

Then, from . . across the lake a dog yowls. Another answers from , , some distant compound on the far side of the hill.

Drawn from my book, I set my eyes on you. You are breathing and I am breathing and I see what lies inside of you, hordes of summer flowers, hyacinths, and long horizons steeped in light. I see past the gentle reckoning of your thighs, the soft rising and falling of your stomach. My eyes bear down on the steely water of the lake shining through you.

You wake to see.

I have taken away my clothing and I am dancing all around. All my beauties and uglies are turned silhouette against the sky.

You must raise your hand to shield your bleary eyes against the sun.

Skirting the edge of the dock, I am dancing until the light locks up, until it is grown so solid I can no longer move against it. I am immobilized, belighted. My shadow breaks away, bounds over the rocks, climbs up into the trees and disappears. I expand like heat, and you are like an echo, like signaling flecks of sun on water.

The lake tips.

In the cool dark hours, the absence that my shadow left rouses me from sleep. I hear, its footfalls on branches, just outside our bedroom, the leaves it rustles as it sniffs its way through the lightless halls of night. You remain quiet, ever ever, and touch me with your hands so I can close my eyes. They curl up on my face like two old dogs warmed by fire.

This is how it is to love you,
which I do.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

What it is ain't exactly clear

Lied To

Something's gone haywire.

It becomes most apparent around people,
in airports or classes or on supermaket
lines--the great disparate judgments of
insides by outsides, mostly yours on
yours added to theirs--as if yours were
not sufficiently your own, not sufficiently
point and counterpoint, like blades that
repel though smithed to clash and cross
and make a furious noise, a noise that
slides along the self-loathing of
avoidance, because you thought it would
be easier than this and you were wrong.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Desolation Row

Collage: Editorial


50 people were buried in the rubble.
The number of dead was not immediately
known. A large number of civilians were
inside. The exact number was unknown.
The number of occupants was around 50.
The exact number was unknown. Around 50.
Buried. They were checking. Residents had
repeatedly been warned. Unable to reach the
area. Showed no video footage. Showed no
video. Around 50. Buried. They were checking.
Expanded its assault on Lebanon. Renewed
attacks on northern Israel. The number of
dead. A large number of civilians. Inside.
Unknown. The exact number was unknown.
The Christian heartland. The last significant
road. Barrage of 140 rockets. Three Hezbollah
rockets. Strike. Inside. Fighting. No casualties
were immediately reported. 50 people were
buried in the rubble. Around 50. Buried. They
were checking. Expanded its assault. Renewed
attacks. Farm workers loading vegetables.
Dozens of farm workers loading vegetables.
Around 50. Dozens. Killing 28. The workers’
foreman. Five Lebanese civilians were killed.
19 wounded. Christian areas. Picturesque
coastal resort. Air raids. 50 people were buried
in the rubble. Civilians. The number of dead
was not immediately known. Four civilians.
Four bridges. Israeli soldiers were killed. A
Lebanese soldier was killed. The exact number
was unknown. Conditions. Pressure. Cease-fire.
Disarmament. Bombing of bridges and roads.
Tightening the blockade. Cutting communica-
ions. Starving them. Starving. Dozens. Inside.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14163530/