Not a Lot, Just Forever
Like the rock bears the weather/not a lot, just forever. — Adrienne Lenker
Like the rock bears the weather/not a lot, just forever. — Adrienne Lenker
I practice for one minute every day for a month. Suddenly I can do an L-sit.
I watch the gap cut in half, then in half again, then in half again. Still, there is a distance to cross.
You hold the emperor’s dying message. Beating back the crowds milling in the infinite dwelling places, you dream of an open field to fly across.
in a universe more bountiful than ours, typed something resembling how you wish to be remembered. But in this world, you aren’t afforded a single error.
It’s almost not unbearable to look through the dim glass at the boy you used to know. There was never any break, no bend from day to day. He was right behind the whole way—and yet, somehow, he did not make it.
I broke the dream to see walls holding us imprisoned.
“It’s a wonder,” my lover said, “The maximum of openness in a closed box.”
“It’s just a skull”
“And in it, we’re free to roam.”
In class we learned, from the brain to the nerves to the tongue to the wagging air to the tiny, beating drum to the rolled up piano to the relay station above the bridge to the MGN, and it never really reaches. You imagine it to yourself. The ghost of the thing wakes up and says, “I was a human just now”. As it flies away you feel the cold wind from its wings.
Like the rock bears the weather/not a lot, just forever. — Adrienne Lenker
If you are reading this sometime between March and May, know that somewhere in New England skinny prep school children aged 13-19 are running over concrete, ...
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