24 August 2011

When We Were Mountain Slopes

Yesterday I introduced you to Anne Waldman. Today, I've tried my hand at a similar style, relying on language to move the poem along and take it to its conclusion:

When We Were Mountain Slopes
I am
I amuse
I assume
I amass vast
            Collections of stuff
            Stuffed animals (blue bear, polar bear, puppet dragon, dragon that belonged to brother, TAC which is not a cat, Wollip which is a pillow…pet. Penguin, 10stitchesandthelistgoeson)
I go on
I go on to bigger things
I go on to smaller things
I go on top of you
Some of the time
We go on top of each other
            Through each other between each other inside each other
On the subways or
Times Square or rubble heap of World Trade Center
It will go on, on and up
We hold each other up
We prop each other up
We whisper each other up
In the waning night
I wean
I war
Whittle words
            Down to bare bones meanings
            Mean is average (if I am the mean then you are the mode, and our happiness is the median our lives are an exponential line rise, the sudden influx in shoppers at Christmas)
I live for Christmas
I live for Christ
I am Christina and I contain Christ
We contain Christ together
We bleed and ache together
I ache alone
Some of the time
We breathe on each other
            Through each other between each other inside each other
In Starbucks or through pixel
webcam screens or blackness or whiteness or multi-color
I multi-color
I color code
We color each other
Each other’s lives just by existing
I am we are I am we are I am we are
I am we are going up and up and on and on and up and on but what about
What about falling?

1 comment:

the walking man said...

I never minded falling on my ass because it only was another opportunity to rise higher than where I fell from. And the second time I knew where the hand holds were at...now about Christmas...you need my address? {;-P}