THE LANGUAGE

"Be for me, like rain,
the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness."
(from The Rain)

THE LANGUAGE
(Robert Creeley)

Locate I
love yousome-
where in

teeth and
eyes, bite
it but

take care not
to hurt, you
want so

much so
little. Words
say everything.

I
love you
again,

then what
is emptiness
for. To

fill, fill.
I heard words
and words full

of holes
aching. Speech
is a mouth.


I am sitting in my closet reading Robert Creeley poems aloud. I am not sure why I am in here, but it feels right. Perhaps it is something I do because it feels iconic. (Though now the idea of that whole big room frightens me, I am comfortable here, my bed is too big, too strange, but sitting on top of this pile of shoes with clothes dangling in front of my eyes, my elbows and wrists bent in ways that make them look alien to me, it is comfortable, it is allowing me to think, to concentrate.) So maybe it is an iconic sort of thing, but I am not convinced that that is a problem if it gives you what you need.

Today was strange, I spent the first half of the day feeling nothing, nothing, nothing and then some anger, and when I can not harness these emotions or more these lack of emotions I just feel sleepy, and my mind worries, but the rest of me doesn't. I am not really clever or concise enough to be a poet just yet, and I lack the proper forethought to write short stories, so I am swimming somewhere in the middle, but I am learning, and I think that if I push myself a little more, I will make some progress. Back to work now.