February 25, 2006

it came and went.
what came and went
came and went.
what melancholy frown came and went
what came and went
went woe
went gone gloom
what came and went
went hard went
away what came went
what inklings went came
went glistening
came and went came
and went again
and went and
came again once
more once more again
quivering
and went wonderful
went and
came floating
easy
swept away
stolen with
mirthful coming and
going
went and
went
and came devoted
devoting an enormous
amount of
time and
energy to
considering
alternative
arrangements:

I have written down all these thoughts as remarks, short paragraphs, of which there is sometimes a fairly long chain about the same subject, while I sometimes make a sudden change, jumping from one topic to another. --It is my intention to bring all this together in a book whose form I picture differently at different times. But the essential thing is that the thoughts should proceed from one subject to another in a natural order and without breaks. My thoughts are crippled if I try to force them in any single direction against their natural inclination.

it came and went.
what came and went
came and went.
what melancholy frown came and went
what came and went
went woe
went gone gloom
what came and went
went hard went
away what came went
what inklings went came
went glistening
came and went came
and went again
and went and
came again once
more once more again
quivering
and went wonderful
went and
came floating
easy
swept away
stolen with
mirthful coming and
going
went and
went
and came devoted
devoting an enormous
amount of
time and
energy to
considering
alternative
arrangements:

whispering attendants


-- Jeff Wietor

Mardi Gras New Orleans

(CNN) -- Chiquita Simms lived in the Gentilly neighborhood of New Orleans until Hurricane Katrina destroyed her home. She and her son evacuated and are now living in Atlanta, Georgia. She explains why she believes the devastated Louisiana seaport should hold off on Mardi Gras events this year. Below are excerpts from a telephone conversation:

I'm not opposed to Mardi Gras -- I love it, I'm born and bred in it. What I am opposed to is my city prioritizing Mardi Gras over its people.

Everywhere you look there are blue roofs -- people are still without proper roofs. The downtown areas are nice, or I should say, they're better. Canal Street is OK; Bourbon Street is functioning; St. Charles Avenue is OK, but that's about it.

When you go into the neighborhoods, there's no housing for people. There is inadequate food, and they couldn't get sponsors because they can't afford the cleanup and the police, and you know, if you can't afford the party, you certainly shouldn't have one.

The mayor's made a comment. ... [Ray Nagin has] said that we can take these two weeks of Mardi Gras as a break from Katrina and take our minds off of it. As an evacuee, I don't ever have the luxury of taking my mind off Katrina until I have my life a little bit more stable.

I think having Mardi Gras sends the false message that our city is OK and that our people are OK, and that's it really going to contribute to our economy. I don't believe that it will.

People are going to probably get mad at me for saying this, but we've been doing Mardi Gras for 149 years prior to this year. This is the 150th anniversary. Our city is the poorest; the education system is horrible; our roads are full of potholes; we have the worst blighted property going.

In 149 years, this event has not benefited the communities that need it, so why would this year benefit them? Is that money going to go to the 9th Ward? You have to tell me how much, you have to show me a plan -- you're going to have to show me how it's going to benefit them this year unlike the last 149 years.

I don't think the city is getting back on its feet. When I went through the city on January 24, I went to the 17th Street levee, the one that breached. There's no one working on it. But when I drive down St. Charles, everybody is making Mardi Gras plans.

You can't tell me that you're rebuilding the city. You don't see any mass efforts or gutting out of houses, and I'm talking about the neighborhoods where people can't afford to do it, like the 9th Ward, which has mass devastation.

Mardi Gras is the tradition that it is, but I think we can live without it this year, [especially] with as much devastation as we've been through and knowing that 70 percent of the city still cannot return to live. I think we can do without it. To hell with tradition, I think we need to deal with what's real.

Instead of holding Mardi Gras, they need to organize. First, get some cohesion with the leadership. They're not even getting along with each other. I think they need to sit down and say, "Hey, everybody messed up from the top to the bottom, now let's look at how we can heal."

They need to show Americans that they are moving forward as leaders instead of being party planners. We need to sit down and stop arguing our private agendas and deal with Washington and get the type of aid that we need.

If we can build a democracy or stay in Iraq until we rebuild that country, then we can rebuild New Orleans. We need to focus on the solution and getting it done, not having a party. It's taken the focus off of what's really wrong with New Orleans.

Wild Gardens Overlooked by Night Lights

Wild gardens overlooked by night lights. Parking
lot trucks overlooked by night lights. Buildings
with their escapes overlooked by lights


They urge me to seek here on the heights
amid the electrical lighting that self who exists,
who witnesses light and fears its expunging,


I take from my wall the landscape with its water
of blue color, its gentle expression of rose,
pink, the sunset reaches outward in strokes as the west wind
rises, the sun sinks and color flees into the delicate
skies it inherited,
I place there a scene from "The Tale of the Genji."


An episode where Genji recognizes his son.
Each turns his face away from so much emotion,
so that the picture is one of profiles floating
elsewhere from their permanence,
a line of green displaces these relatives,
black also intervenes at correct distances,
the shapes of the hair are black.


Black describes the feeling,
is recognized as remorse, sadness,


black is a headdress while lines slant swiftly,
the space is slanted vertically with its graduating
need for movement,

Thus the grip of realism has found
a picture chosen to cover the space
occupied by another picture
establishing a flexibility so we are not immobile
like a car that spends its night
outside a window, but mobile like a spirit.


I float over this dwelling, and when I choose
enter it. I have an ethnological interest
in this building, because I inhabit it
and upon me has been bestowed the decision of changing
an abstract picture of light into a ghost-like story
of a prince whose principality I now share,
into whose confidence I have wandered.


Screens were selected to prevent this intrusion
of exacting light and add a chiaroscuro,
so that Genji may turn his face from his son,
from recognition which here is painful,
and he allows himself to be positioned on a screen,
this prince as noble as ever,
songs from the haunted distance
presenting themselves in silks.


The light of fiction and light of surface
sink into vision whose illumination
exacts its shades,


The Genji when they arose
strolled outside reality
their screen dismantled,
upon that modern wondering space
flash lights from the wild gardens.

-- Barbara Guest

February 15, 2006

she stands in a cup of water and insists on
washing her atheistic trends with soapy
heretofore

unlike him
she is wearing a blue sarong
his green leaf
legging has yet
to be tied

henceforth three
powerhouse dancers
bruise jungle flowers
worn over their
stealthy incompetence

slick. he's big
on robust fantasy
as a gaggle of ex-possible
lovers and hanger-ons
cavort greenly

exhausted after
too much too soon
he sits on the floor
holding his head
moaning about it

together they drink from
the cup of human kindness
but prefer feeding
walnuts to pigeons
alighting

she's very big
looming over
his prone
position

nestled now
together spent
prone backs to the ground
wet drying

are those
magnolia
in bloom
sure enough and more
a ginkgo sprouting

much to be happy about
especially
in warm weather
with a slight
cool
breeze

-- Jeff Wietor

February 14, 2006

Valentine Pillow Fight: San Francisco

Monkey Molecules

holding on to the showing
hanging on to the showy
glimpse the brief
glide the skate
holding extreme globe winks
glowing glib window
glistening star moon circular
globe noble dayglow fabulous
planet opalescence glint beaker
goblet evident bold polish
scintillate motionless candy
clear gorgeous shine iridescence
holding briefly perception
smoothly glissade look quickly
hold on let go hold on glide

-- Jeff Wietor

February 11, 2006

names reduced
did you this
did you that

you think so
you say so
you do so

shine. warm so you say.
warm. shine so you say.
say. warm so you think.

-- Jeff Wietor

The Euphrates at Babylon

old
gods nor symbols
margin
the next age was to plunge her
mysteriously
decapitated bodies

here
relics of life
beneath
thighs in the abandon of thought
two heads found near them
compact coherence

planes
a builder-prince
rough grain
covered with palm trees and date trees
cross one another
Chaldean theocracy

born
her brilliant nights
it was
instruments of geometry
astronomy was
on the upper terraces

sky
observe the need
bodies
nothing discovers everything
very skeleton
mathematical map

hard
study the stars
tower
of those cuneiform inscriptions
bas-relief king fight
statues with muscle

-- Jeff Wietor

Chapter III

between two
old rivers

the sand
covered up
everything

is human soul is:
the face
Chaldean palaces
ruins of Tello
light of an undying hearth

-- Jeff Wietor

Hoochy-Koochy

they sang
a song
suggestively

near them
two heads
with energy

reposing on
their thighs
in the

abandon of
thought

-- Jeff Wietor

February 7, 2006

Every day I nourish illusion
I live in San Francisco
I take the bus
I board the bus
I ride the bus
I travel by bus
I see the hapless, the
hopeless, the haveless
the bored, the bald, the
fat, the faces covered with
dermatological
horrors --
the skinny, the tattoos, the
cursed, the students
plugged-in, the
aged
whose next stop is
Death
Oblivion
or
Apotheosis

-- Jeff Wietor

February 6, 2006

on TV's
a man who looks
just like

Charles Steiner
(from my past
you don't know him)

except he's blond and wears
wire rim glasses but
everything he says

is said in earnest
and with dreadful
certainty:

he claims to know
all about
the Uncommon Cures

for Everyday Ailments
(everyday ailments?)
(uncommon cures?)

yup
that's
Charles Steiner

only younger
much younger
but just as earnest

I miss him
he had large hands
large feelings

his hands magically
could reach through
your jeans

and all of a sudden
you were swimming with him
in a frothy rawdy surf

coming with him
was like
riding a skateboard

through traffic
at midday
in the Financial District

on a Wednesday
in summer
holding a secret

in one hand
while scraping
with the other

accretions
of memory
from the self

-- Jeff Wietor

February 5, 2006

you probably believe that seeing the
word,

or the fatalistic number:

7 Miles Out
2006

has meaning
or is meaning
or carries meaning

Focus:
how many will that be?

you don't know
the kids
with microphones

standing on
the
freeway

talking
about
The End

I never thought this
would happen while
I'm on vacation

that's what
it will be
that's what it will be

yes

that is
what it

is

-- Jeff Wietor

February 4, 2006

my god!
can you say that --
OMG

it's massive
it's hitting
it's big

it's a big
why
it's why

I can't sleep
I can't wake
I'm telling you

I am tremendous
but I can't tell you
I can't tell you

it's horrible
it's over night
it's over tonight

I can't tell you
I can't see why
I want to go live

OMG
the sunlight
is eting me alilve

expect the end
to be
as soon as possible

what grows
outward
from you

will destroy
those
closest.

forecasters!
however
intelligent you are

are you ready to use all situations?
where are you right now?
give us a sense of where you are.

we're expecting to tell you
now
what will be later

that's the
joke
: start planning

-- Jeff Wietor

February 3, 2006

I'm guessing
there's a
lot of people

but then I wonder what
"Lot Of People
means

to a nurse's touch.
a touch of the nurse
"have you ever felt anything like it?

can you expect
anything like it?
so many people right now

are at home --

-- Jeff Wietor

February 2, 2006

We see it
on TV
But

we don't
Believe it

we live in this area
or
that area

it's
always
missed us

what that
is
that missed us

is
what

we're thinking
about
tonight

we're thinking this is our
greatest
event ever

We're
born.

that
this
is --

is
the
natural
question

-- Jeff Wietor

Conversations in February

here we are in February
at
last

here we are
at the keys of the piano

here we are
ain't we
remember ain't we

remember you must
to walk them through
memory

as if Memory
is a Garden of Walking Through:

if, when you remember to remember
you

you acknowledge
you know
you undersay

no, you understate,
no you understand--

-- Jeff Wietor

Last Conversation in January 2006

Quote:
I can see beyond the Universe
but I'm not so sure I understand what it is you
want me to say about it

well sure enough --
sure enough

there is no salvation without compassion for
every other
Being

-- that a question is is enough of a question to question; that a question asks is reason enough to remain silent; that a question is the Object of the Sentence
is reason enough to remember: Memories are made of this--

I live in Gaudy Splendor
a suburb of Your Name and Mine

yet I am not organized
nor am I Organization

nor am I
remembered by those
I remember

this, made of sand, gets us into the Neighbor
territory and there
I'm lost playing a horn on a
mountain top
walking along with a thousand thousand others
unable to count unable to remember
unable to waken to walking
but I walk still

a thousand thousand do you know how
much that is
much that is needed

can you imagine playing with a thousand children
a thousand thousand children of children

?

Unquote

Do I dare
Eat a peach?
sing a song about
eating a
peach?
or tell you
there are
no peaches
in the house.

if I tell you
it's all made of sand
are you somebody who knows what
sand Is or even
thinks in metaphor.

hopeless ain't it.

I took a picture
no you took a photo
I died
no you are still alive

today I found a waiting
waiting and understand this:
you will get lost
I happy to have found you again
It is the great secret.

Breath hands and Hands

I am not a
good
example of
Impartiality

of Being
Impartial

of
Remembering

of remembering
knowing

of you

-- Jeff Wietor

Adam Dreams of Shane

Something within us perceives Venus as
A morning star: a planet rising in
The east over the hills through the hills
Over the clouds through the sky;
In waking and in dream
To have no hope in the future gives
Consistency to the present
Alan Ladd knew that.

We mount the horse and become afraid
Of height afraid of the huge animal
Supporting our fragile weight afraid of the surge of
Potential power afraid of having no
Control over this thing this alive
Beast this natural mode of transportation.
Jean Arthur knew that.

The objects in this world: devoid of consciousness
Ignorant of the eventual backward
Movement of flesh to water of bones to
Earth of mind to air; & the intonation of
The voice (we will miss especially) retreats as
This profound sorrow of decision-making ceases.
Van Heflin knew that.

What he remembers through seeing
What he realizes not knowing
What within us perceives
Becomes what the boy wants
The boy craves.

-- Jeff Wietor

Feeling Convivial Miu Miu Mulls Upon Mason's Stride

Miu Miu Altoids Apple Sours
Seven fingers a whisker a moustache
O you O you My Darling Brad
Where Have You Gone

Today Is: a rosary of roses
Garuda flies North
Thelma, upon her adoption was renamed
Ananda is named Ananda

Ignore narrative if you want the poem
to live longer than you
Phlebas the Phoenician,a fortnight dead,
knew that and how

Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as
you.

When Connie got back from India
the first thing she said was:
"I've had it up to here with Supermind"
then gestured her hand flying
over her head

I sensed in her some creative tension but
shrinking creative tension; I also pictured her
living in a capillary somewhere in a human body.
Not hers.

Let me into your life
I am a wine jar and a drum.
Out of the goat's nose
flows the Ganga.

Slyly I remain
Slowly I go
Time is not a mistake.
You are right on the border.

Today we had darjeeling, Russian
Caravan and in the afternoon:
spinach oolong: a green day
smaller than an insert.

why is it
every word
has a meaning?
don't forget to pay for
any apples you take from the drawer.

he breathes out she reads aloud
she teaches him to read he remembers
hearing the Katzenjammer Kids
read aloud remembers seeing

in the little shop one
summer sat a little parrot
and next to the little parrot
sat a little man: a midget: he screamed

you mean the word five
means ten and ten means turquoise
while there is no word for that word
you cannot think of just now?

ok, these dice are one-inch
cubes (with rounded corners)
I found them in the street
in a fit of confusion

remember to tell Mason
I'm trying to bewitch him
with language; remember to look
in the mirror and see him: narrowly.

remember, Miu Miu, Miu Miu says
to herself reminding herself for fear
of wanting to forget: notice how good
he looks, his famous Crest of Ilium.

-- Jeff Wietor