Tuesday, October 20, 2009

So different, this man 
And this woman: 
A stream flowing 
In a field.

(William Carlos Williams, 1883-1963)
15 july
To マークジョーンズ and 木村こずえ, on the occasion of their marriage.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

So here I am in the tropics.
3600 miles off the coast
in an inner tube.
My boots are wet
but I finished crying 3 hours ago.

Hit the water 2 hours prior to that
on account of tanks
that wouldn't transfer. I want
a cigarette, a drink,
or an explanation.

Not for what got me here
But for why the fuck we even do it.
...fly jets across oceans
and drop things in the sand.

For why I wasn't afforded
a better reason to rethink things,
somewhat earlier.

Someone said
a container ship
runs through here
thrice a year.
But what are the chances.

The current took my parachute,
and the salt soaked my radio.

But I'm not scared
In the sense,
that it will hurt or be agonizing,
But by the notion that
I will be left without a why.

And it doesn't displease me
that in a matter of days
I will be unconsious,
but that there are no more answers
here,
than anywhere else.

That crossing oceans
is not a prowess
that brings any of us closer,
but rather a reduction
of the void that unites us
into a string of waypoints.

It's around noon,
from what I can tell.
But there are no noises.

Just me.
Just this.
Maybe I'll get lucky.