i don't know why, if i have such anxiety about linking this or that thing, i still have an impulse to this blog. anyway, a first draft for today's workshop--why the fuck not. maybe i'll even put revisions here. it might give me a certain motivation outside of class.
The Oneiric House
You knew this place before your own sensibility;
knew its frankness like the sound of clipping fingernails
or sticky frets swollen by solid air.
This house is motionless the way all immemorial things are
yet you remember the tremble of muslin curtains in certain heat
the echo of Naima in a ribcage of wood
night light a specter across floor as cool as sheets.
Once more you will return to this lake house
of lightning and frost, where crawfish keep under rocks
as smooth and flat as memory: the clicking of locks
a shiver distilled across decades.
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