It’s the ghost idea.
The ghost which is immortal
and the ghost which is the representation
of my lasting love on film.
These fundamental ideas from time to time
must have within it
a long ghost, which
persists after the body dies.
We pass on in fragments,
we breathe out our broken heart in parts.
One day this ghost will materialize
on the couch beside you
and you will finally have the chance to stay
forever this time,
and enter a new body
continuing to breathe out
until every mortal piece has been breathed out.
wandering only as an astral body,
you will grow into a flower
sending forth its subtle scent
as you admire
your broken heart out the window,
as two lovers
watch a movie on cable TV.
Lights change, limbs move,
and the drought continues.
The sun becomes the feeling
and the feeling can last you all the way home.
Every time you see a movie you want to quit your job
and do whatever they were doing in the movie.
You put your foot up on the dash.
The dash is eternal.
Palm trees rain down dreams of the future onto your weary head.
Think. I’m feeling it more than usual. My short life, my nails painted coral.
You’re thinking about yourself and this experience,
pop songs driving through a tunnel.
The kid in the passenger seat next to you says,
Now I know what it’s like to be inside of a cloud.
Turn to him and say,
Whatever. I gave this to you. It’s yours now.
Big rages at small inconveniences,
some real desperate downloads.
I just want to watch Hulu like I used to.
You create meaning where there is none
and I love you.
I could listen to you for forever.
Grass grows upwards through the pavement
at night, sleepwalks to face the moon.
Let’s waterfall together forever
like a vortex of views.
Most of us cannot say if
this very evening
the moon will be out at all
or if what we perceive as a picture
is actually an image but rather,
has been constructed over time.
Anything could be true.
There is nothing arbitrary
about an earthquake
or the collision of cars
or the stabbing to death
of one person
I think there is something
wrong with me.
Like, my brain just fell asleep.
Like, my heart is made up of a thousand bees.
Waiting for my body to come back online,
a thousand bees
definitely not asleep.
And the wife now,
she can see far into the future.
Leaves dripping wet in the windowsill.
And she has a heart?
Yes T, a heart of bees.
Almost everything scares you.
A dog swims alone in the river
surrounded by ducks.
Scared Jerusalem. Scares you.
An estranged woman
is eyeing her sandwich bag of medicine.
The airports and cities are full.
There are so many people. The earth
is viewed by you as post-dinosaurs.
Ferns remind you of the time dinosaurs roamed the earth.
the ferns ate the dinosaurs.
The bagel you ate will never exist again.
Bread pictured in an old coupon book from the 1990s
would be unrecognizable today.
A green nothing.
I can see how it seems I’ve just floated in through a window
but I’m going to force myself to open up
to the western United States,
like a feeling or a sentence that’s just running through me.
Completely, he said,
it’s like riding a bike through your face.
And I’m going to
try again, or for the first time since I was a girl,
describe each moment as it’s happening
like the smell of honeysuckles or how pavement feels.
I’m hoping that with all this cold, clear magic dripping down all over everything
I’ll become like a real person again,
a person that people give meaning to a walk in the woods with
because, if it weren’t for you, I promise,
if it weren’t for you
I’d just have an empty room
or not even a room,
but a feeling of room, or a feeling that there is a room
and within that room
there’s so much more room
than there is myself.