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SKETCH 4

If the fourth dimension is time

(which it must be)

then the fifth

is the force that infects

your soulmotions

how deeply into your heart

something accomplishes.

Now all dimensions

must (exist) (simultaneously)

and the hardest

to draw must be the first—

so basic

but the fulcrum

of all complexity

indelible artifact

marked up with its own fame

two, three = too easy

one

and four

meet to form

what we see as binding

a cord of time

corded flat motion

accorded

by shape

by purpose

white sweet bee

lace of flatness

petals of happening like grains of rice

THE EGO OF STORY

I am the storyteller am

the protagonist I am the

listener who reconciles the three.

 

We like to hear stories of

ourselves like to see pictures of

ourselves and so of course we find

ourselves in the three.

 

I am the consequences am

The relativity am the

equilibrium that hangs among the three.

SKETCH 40

Where does sound go?

between buildings

along streams

with children

through ice cold winter snow jackets on hills around mountains

in circles with itself

from one ear to the other

it stops at the edge of water, waits a minute before warbling in

coasts from whistling stormcloud to stormcloud

sweet cirrus hear from afar

under houses and through buckles and bicycles

splashing out of all bathtubs

snaking through trains of gentle camels

in brightness, darkness, twilight

hitchhiking with the wind everywhere

chasing falling objects, mostly chasing the kersplat of their impacts

coming between collisions

clipping all scissors

rolling out from under squeaky shoes

in the orchestra of each thunderstorm

under the violent, long fall of a raindrop

at the bottom of each birdflap

between the porch cracks of human sadness

with all languages

the same way rain

falls down dripping gutters