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from lingo 8

 
Lyn Hejinian
 
from Happily
 

The manner in which we are present at this time to and

fro appears before us
The matter is so
Can we share its kind of existence
The brink that's the sympathy
Sound circling point of hearing
Think how different it is when we come to point of
view
"I" moving about unrolled barking at blue clouds
devoted to each other?
To hasten to the point? to evade anxiety? to picture?
Having awkward heaviness "I" never moves freely
about unless passing and happening
accompanied
And this is how
Our pleasure is perplexed beyond that
Sky onward lowers as if the earth had been keeping
still so as to stay out of its way
If we thrill to low hills because they are not composed
they are "composed to our liking"
They say there is no defining that but to say that is
defining that living in context
One would think of all the social forces traveling with
a show of indifference over a crowd or sound
brought to a sound
A good person would be starred ill and well in a life he
or she couldn't know how to refuse
Every day we may never happen on the object hung on
a mere chance
When and where one happens it will surprise us, not in
itself but in its coming to our attention, not as
something suddenly present but as something
that's been near for a long time and which we
have only just noticed
When we might ask did we begin to share that
existence
What have we overlooked
Nostalgia is another name for one's sense of loss at
the thought that one has sadly gone along
happily overlooking something, who knows
what
Perhaps there were three things, no one of which
made sense of the other two
A sandwich, a wallet, and a giraffe
Logic tends to force similarities but that's not what we
mean by "sharing existence"
The matter is incapable of being caused, incapable of
not being so, condensed into a cause a bean,
captive forever
Perhaps
Because this object is so tiny
A store of intellect, a certain ethical potential,
something that will hold good
Like ants swarming into pattern we get to the middle
of the day two distinct sensations that must be
it
To the left, the street light, blue to the right in the little
window of memory, crystal sprig
But beyond the fact the ceaseless onset cuts this
recognized sensation hurrying after it alive


 
  lingo 8
Books in print by Lyn Hejinian



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