nudging priorities into some general, curtailed
direction, cradling the tail , tucked in, between the two
legs, my backbone ripples all of its vertebrae against
all of its knuckles, clean. standing tall, not knowing
which way is up, singing a Foie gras swan’s song
resting never & way too long. she remembered dreaming
this wld happen & by the by, by the time, she remembers
remembering, the meadow lies timeless, enwrapped with
its mind, a circle of blindingly vanishing circles, the maiden s onyx eye,
the gaze fetching inward, some songs of the sky,
when did we do good & when did we do bad, & who tells
us the score, when the scoreboard is broke, & the tally
gone ho, & the horses they whine & they dine on our souls,
sardine-packed,askew in the heavenly pew. So death is
an interlude, playing games with your clothes, & in
every moment, is both stronger & broke. sometimes it is
the very people who no one imagines anything of, who do
the things that no one can imagine. she lays her body in the
horizon of lithium. Salar de Uyuni, the world s largest salt flat
contains 50 – 70% of the world s lithium reserves. The pink flamingos –
smattered heads of a dot on a very large dot – Are not all flamingoes pink?
She moves & re-moves, her extremities along the lines of
the perfectly soft & white & Vitruvian man. She makes a lithium
angel in the lithium snow. The silver white element cradles her
stingrays. & it bathes in the waves of the machine of her mind.
How can a mind have ripples, minds are flat, as the skies.
She is so grateful. It has done so much for her.