Wave, wave.
There were no waves.
There were ecosystems.
& someone somewhere
Listening to this guest mix
In the grass, whose hand clutching
Their iPhone hears the
Music as it happens
All the way down there
Where I am in it now:
BOMBAY FOREST.
Needless to say,
I don’t say it, shrunken
By the impulse to
Explain what I
Hear in this –
The same as it is with sentences.
Eardrums a gift, a seed
Trembling, shaking, or
A kind of fish, a
Starfish, awake, on the watch,
A kind of wasp on my scent trail:
This circuit board made of ear-seashells.
& wirelessly a seat, two seats, two ears,
Two-headed ducks
Unawakening a song,
A melody, the corner of the eye
Decked in turntables, or
Headphones made out of a bunch of
Grapes.
But yo,
Only on a night
When the dinner plates are dry
& shining & stacked with circular thinking.
Yeah, this mix
Straight into my unusually large head,
But only in the back where
The memories are.
In it, in this eco-tech
Eco-juke sung by a moon but
The song has no name, only a
Syllable a sound in you
A self with
3 syllables:
Wordlessness,
& together
We run & jump
Into a little green well
& wash & get hot, after
Which we
Write & are warm, singing
The one song the
Waves know, or
The sand knows,
If they sang,
Which they don’t.
But I’ll tell you all about it,
What each part of this mix means.
I chew them in the rain.
I.e., in an eco-meadow a
Duckling looked at me
& right there I was born –
No sound, no light,
Just life, beyond my life
I listen to this, I go to school for this.
Again, I began listening again,
Hearing the seams,
& again & again
I’d found I’d begun;
A hand writing the page
Plunders each sentence from its
Place. Words being
Wings or webs, or
Door by door a fretboard.
& wanting to get a grasp,
I got grabbed
Utterly & excessively in HERBARIUM’s
Grasp, with all my mind being
Grasped, snatched,
Invaded, in the grip of, seized,
There, back there,
My feet back there in that
Ecosystem where I left them, dancing.
The eye adds a face
To this ocean to the despair of
Cartographers,
Coming thru time into a guest mix,
HERBARIUM, into a life,
Another ocean, into a body, a
Dog in the ocean or a
A dog in the doorway or
A dog with headphones on
Listening to BOMBAY FOREST.
To be a dog is to be in this
Guest mix
That I am describing with
A word, at last, a word.
A word within a word, weeping
For another word, without
Even thinking of itself – the ocean,
An eco-ocean inside
An eco-sun, i.e. a tongue beautifully
Tied to itself i.e. a
Wave’s faucet, i.e.
The whales which we imagine
To be made up of
Little children, yeah, little children
Running with a dog thru
The doorway to
An ecosystem, to
A book, a turntable,
A guest mix.
I think I am asleep.
No, I think I want to be
Asleep in the ocean.
I think I want to speak Russian.
I think I want to listen to music.
An eco-ocean containing
An eco-curtain opening onto seagulls:
& the roof contains the skies
Within it with
All the words, that, for the moment,
Take on the work of stars. &
A pair of eyes, blinking, i.e.
Lids or lips an utterance or
An angel on the outer brink of noise,
Caught in my teeth by reading.
But yeah,
Belly buttons are sphinxes,
Tibetan monks smell like sperm,
Tenderness is an
Airspace, owned by Disney:
By an angel inside him.
Here, without gravity,
Amputating a swan
(Removing the Botticelli)
& to hear thru the sea thru
A series of 3-D glasses
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
This guest mix by HERBARIUM &
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