[13 dancers: antigone, dora, elizabeth, hafiz, henry, jackson, lily, pluto, question, sam, thom, wind, zebra]
prolegomenon
*
.no more a tradesman of suitcases, you’re tracking pages with bone chips in velvet emerald satchels over your shoulder (dislocated by moonlight)..
*
.august found you trading your tickets to a broken opera for a stamp of disproportionate magic..
*
.(as if..)
*
.broken things are dangerous: the crystal wine glass under your bare foot,
the perfume-tray mirror thrown down cellar stairs..
*
.we watched you spinning all those chipped plates of glass and china (all at once),
toying with quantifying chaos stuck between streets of itinerants and fools..
*
.one of us: high-speed kaleidoscopic with a personality on crack—
or something such..
*
(.you know..)
*
.there’s really no reason to study for the astrological test..
.this is no prolegomenon for a misplaced cartography..
Is this to be performed nude
Or in diaphanous linens? In satin, is it
A stream of consciousness
A linguistic storm, a dream
Epiphany or an exchange by medium?
Who knows
Things are so
Utterly gracious
Besides Poetessa?
.with or without any
..more or less
…Punctuation.
yes, philosopher-poet–
on all of the above.
you are amazing–your reading of me.
happy spring to thee and thine.
I appreciate you eternally.
once DIRGE: a ballet for 13 dancers reaches me,
my hardcover author copies,
one is going to be signed for you immediately
and sent via snail mail to you–
with godspeed.
again,
thank you,
poetess in ct
btw, your comment is utterly beautiful–and hits me on emotional, poetic, and spiritual planes simultaneously. awaiting your next philosophical book!