the magnificence of movement

in the dream
i find the black kitten
curled on the floor
very sick, perhaps dying
and i cup it and talk to it and
administer mouth to mouth
(with breaths too big at first
which turns her into a cartoon kitty
with wide eyes and body ballooning)
but after a few breaths
i get it down
and she drifts into more consciousness
and mouths thank you to me
but is still on the edge
and i tell her how her spirit will always be alive
(in the air, carried in my heart)
and then
i am crying which leads to a kind of wailing
which leads to her being like
whoooah, are you just making this up
because she thinks my wailing

is actually laughter
which jerks me
into waking

simona carrying two cups of coffee
back to her room
sharing tell of her own
sad dream saga
fauxdobe amy says
about the housing that flanks the highway
as we drive out of town
she explains how it’s just standard square frame construction
with an adobe-ish facade

heiresses she says
about the doghair in the car
and the people she sometimes works for
heiresses living in the second-poorest state
in the u.s.

it’s a missile range she says
of white sands

tucking our noses into the
mottled ponderosa bark seeking
that earthy sweet vanilla smell nestled within
how i pause and point
on the trail
wher i first hear the waters
of el rio en medio
gurgling and swish-swirling
invisble under cover of
its ice covering

and then
when we get to the mass
frozen in the shape of falling off
the boulders,
the magnificence of the movement
of light and shadow inside it
(water running through
its frozen husk/shell)
shine of water melt trickle
dripping down from corners of roofs
as we roll back into town and also
a glimpse of the river
(which those who aren’t from here
mistakenly call creek)
being a river (made of water instead of absence)
shining back too

how i make my way through
the horrifyingest of the horrifying sections
(this one involves a ‘pet’ monkey on a chain
being swung around by a child) of the book
“lake of sleeping children” by Luís Alberto Urrea
which is not a horror book at all
in the typical sense
(just a documentation of life in mexico along
the mexico u.s. border)
while i lose my appetite
over leftovers and sip slowly from
the mug of miso swimming with
kale and rehydrated sungold tomatoes

from the water world:
A man passes by a frozen waterfall in the village of Jezerc, Kosovo. – voice of america, day in photos


Japanese bathers pray for the healthy New Year while dipping in a cold water tub with blocks of ice at a park by Teppozu Inari Shinto Shrine during a winter ritual in Tokyo.
– voice of america, day in photos

A man takes a dip in icy water in Minsk, Belarus. – voice of america, day in photos


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s