I. Fragments
Once, and but once
upon a time, a heart upon,
upon a head. Came hand
in truth,
amen.
“How like a shepherd am I,” claims Glynis Young, “how
innocent I bend. Look!
how I allow nature to outdo herself.”
the high lawns, the ripe
cherry, and then the rotten plum,
but always still and always always
and amen
the hills rolling into parcels
of pure sky
II. All the Rest is Commentary
Hills mean slants and slant means (n) a person who is comfortable amidst the gravitational pull of meaning. So, ok, Glynis Young is a mound-o-meaning, thus she innocently bends. But, that was once but once, so what is now still now? Perhaps the sky? Sky being the infinite bounded by limitations. In our case, pure limitations. Pure objectifying, commodifying. I.e. My pure darling, spend your limited eternity with me. But this turn into sky happens “always still and always always,” a quadruple positive, which equals a negative. Therefore mathematically speaking, we are in the past. And if we can only locate Glynis in the past, can she exist? Yes, we have her direct quote, but because of her penchant for similes she leaves us on shadowed ground. The only absolute we know then is what she is not: nature. If we take her word, then she could be art. But the idea that art is inferior to nature is no longer of the fashionable intelligence, and consequently must be ignored. Of course we also find Glynis among the listed fruit—that obvious nod toward Eve oh eve—but that is an archetype, and one should avoid archetypes
when dealing with Mrs. G.
“You take it by the throat,” says I! “The throat
by which it lies.” You find that slithering moon, find that tearing
sky and “gosh, gosh, gosh, gosh—”
“Hold it,” I say still! “tight by the belly” until it opens
like the sky. Then dear expedience curl it “past yourself, past” your resting
roundness, and let it come, roundly roundly:
But remember peace good gosh, peace
good you. For in the slithering sky does lie that “easy, open
moon,” just waiting to be missed.
“So says I, still says:” take hold
of tales and other ends; for that, dear princess—is the world gone round, “round
like the moon when it tears” itself out of the sky