3-day Weekend by sean s

There was nothing on my front porch but quiet
and my hand hanging from my wrist for a few decades more,

and here I am trying to spoil all that.

Whown by sean s

After JKD's Who...

After a conversation, who

now

were I as green as a twister's

now

who

sighting

down the roar unfearing northlike

a cat's eye under basement steps

now, a little farther

a little farther

the boreal under my roots

under the steps of my Brooklyn

were I under my own steps

my o'n

Eurydice's vision, by JKD

After Sarah Larivière's Turnstiles and Rainer Maria Rilke's VII Orpheus, Eurydice, Hermes in the translation by J.B. Leishman (1976 publication by Hogarth Press, London)

And there, winding through the silver-ored darkness in need of a glimpse

palm up

fish-eyed, cateracted blue-hued no more than a bulb’s pivot seeking sight
the needlepalm

the napalmed blossoming orange-red flair of –up—and—this—and she, centerfolded,

wraps, palm-frond

emerges into the jilted sage spread-eagled lip pelvic opened canister of pornography,
sliverpalmed

a sentence(d) akin to the stem or coat-tails collar in the act of being carried off
palm-film

stuck at the catch threshold ground–surfaced mustard yellow in the potting shed torn
snapshot palm of  

her-rooted sound of heavy porphyry in the darkness’ red red rudding of to see just

her palm

held single twistered pathway round turning unto and back to and recalling silk-smoothed

palm

reached out towards near tactile field-space breathed into contact’s untouching festered

blackpalm

night underworld sword-shrouding length of sheathed castoff to be stretched, carried upwards

over Avernus’ palm

then backtripped, she's returned to thickspun cocoon ear-muffled silence undersnow, re-grounded here in her, 

slack-palmed

Who... by JKD

After Amanda Deutch's At Home and a conversation with Michelle Noteboom

Who would I be

now

if I were

right now

in Brooklyn?

Wanting to just be

a little farther north

sighting

the aurora borealis

and a green

as a cat’s eye aglow

unfeared

unlike now

in the basement

waiting

for the twister’s

past.

turnstiles by Sarah Lariviere

After Jennifer K. Dick's Glint

palm up
in the dug lawn,
bulbs pivot (in-on)
the needlepalm

-- up

this

is in a magazine, the centerfold
jilted sage (sage) SAGE pornography,
into focus, silvergreen

(sentence)collar in the act of being
carried off
filmsticked

mustard in the potting shed

snapshot of the palm

Glint by JKD

After George Vance's  De Keersmaeker at Le Manège de Reims 

corps-polygraphy

girlurgling quilted morningsong

spun stunned Persephone

towered dreamwaking from under

the grave dead gesture

of emergence

this

outof infrom

a test’s tasked

quickfreeze tableau

focused

farscape or shouder-point

her-shed

nightyearnings’ link

between known (non) points
a

vector in plainsong

to b

sharing spots, places taken

in turnstyles

being (to be)

a specific sonogram

New: De Keersmaeker at Le Manège de Reims

cesena

polycorps

bodysongs corpophony

helping hands helping the quick helping the

dying into the grave

dead reawakening from the black bower

tercento tones and peasantry Brueg’ling crowds

called to task by a farmer’s kyrie

outof infrom the body

nurse’s therapist’s gestures

quickfreeze tableaux

moving bodies moving moving bodies

jumprunning scampering fucking about

surveiling guarding safeguarding

presented selves focus on far points no points

running amock saved by more helpingquick hands

cripple-hops

group vectors herd-pointing

a yelling plainsong

sharing spots, places taking turns in them

taking turns being human taking turns being

a specific human

saying good-bye to 700 years of yesterdays

bodywrangling

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