I become dumbfounded after
so many struggles to remember
names, faces and events
that keep increasing influence
responsible somehow for loss
of one redemptive cause
I go on and on about the story
in anticipation of a visit from
circumstances pointing to
the end just around the corner
but today eyes fall upon the
surface marked with verbiage
made palpable by searching
for clues altered to realize
desire occupies its former spot
like private property exposing
flare-up in mind that played
a nasty trick in the past
understood as life pulling
an elaborate switch to start
the whole process once again
It always amazes me how quickly things change in your poetry. The instability of thoughts and images. It's riveting. As soon as I get focused on one theme, say the phrase "to continue desire," which is an intriguing thought, as if one had the power to stop desire whenever one wanted, like the pause button on a TV remote, it morphs into the loss of a "redemptive cause," is responsible for it, and how might a cause be redemptive? It's counter-intuitive. One imagines the effect of something to be redemptive. Redemption ordinarily follows something. It's a provocative notion, to perceive a cause as redemptive, which then becomes "I go on and on about the story," a wonderful disjunctive leap into another swirl of images and ideas. The turbidity is exhilarating.
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