*For these poems, I select books that I own, open them to random pages, and select random lines. After compiling these lines, I arrange them into poems.
Assembled Book Poem No. 4 [1]
the timing of his life directly parallels
the spaceship towers of shanghai
poets thought he had changed the weather
regard the set rather
the phenomena are evaluated as bizarre, grandiose delusions
don’t turn your head
it was just background, one of a million
whose audience is always primarily oneself
the start of what has become a lifetime
the fate of people
whose names I don’t recognize
moves through the world
what is left to us when we come down to that?
to be a model for the entire world
a downright unshakeable
“that’s a fine idea.”
that’s what she said–apropos of nothing
then I say good bye, and I hang up
if there was more, I needed to hear it
it was a dreadful, harrowing sound
the next few days I played sick
there is no screen between her and the questions of life and death
their homes gradually came to be built
and packed my bag slowly
[1] Encounter (Kundera), Where I’m Calling From (Carver), n+1 Winter 2013, Poetry November 2012, Both Flesh and Not (Foster-Wallace), The Shadow of the Wind (Zafón)
