I remembered what it was like, knowing what you want to eat and then making it, forgetting about the ending in the middle, looking at the ocean for a long time without restlessness, or with restlessness not inhabiting the joints, sitting Indian style on a porch overlooking that water, smooth like good cake frosting. And then I experienced it, falling so deeply into the storyline, I laughed as soon as my character entered the picture, humming the theme music even when I’d told myself I wanted to be quiet by some freezing river and never talk to anyone again. And I thought, now is the right time to cut up your shirt.
At the Very Beginning
When I named you I was on the verge
of a discovery, I was accumulating
data, my condition was that of a person
sitting late at night in a yellowing kitchen
over steeping tea mumbling
as his wife remotely does the laundry.
My condition was that of a mathematician
who cannot put the names to colors,
who, confusing speaking and addition,
identifies with confidence the rain
soaked broad trunked redwood tree (whose
scent releases all of winter) saying as he passes one