Invocations

1. Now I will do nothing but listen,
To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward it.
I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat,
gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals
I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,
I hear all sounds running together,
combined, fused or following.

2. All the Records previous to this. Past peoples who yet thrive in my present.

The Record

January.
a morning in inman, books to my body coffee then with sabeen, we talked at 1369 for a few days i waited about the west there were films, snowy nights, papers to write long mornings and afternoon rest late night walks with many people in the streets monta’s house the druid where we all said goodbye sabeen, teddy, shu, leah, maciej (as he was then known) doug, sarah, jenny, kristen, sylvia i was going to say something after that night with so little time left but decided not to. one last lunch at shaheen’s, mack at the table i drove west to buffalo arriving in a blizzard, sleeping in a mute farmhouse next was home, a day over, then to buffalo boston again, maciej and sylvia at the middle east denounced on vodka i almost did it, there was a moment it might have happened and before i know it, there are the plains, the mountains, denver, vail there’s a full moon tonight, wave so i can see you here i am in my new home my back taking a week to adjust time off in the lodge, waiting for gear the sun at such a high altitude scalds your hair it saturates your body with depth each morning there is blood from your fingers on the bed many talks, many chats what happened was what i expected i tried to be a good compatriate, and patient the back room finally became safe i drank with these kids, inhaling smoke i took walks above the road and remembered the lights on the hills deep in the trees there were fewer hesitations i love you, but you lost me after many years that story was over andrew and i spoke in an empty room i said, i can’t believe winter turned now i have one wing of fear, one of hope where will this lead alabama now all of this began to make sense the true west, a point of access when the door can stay open in a soonly spring i reversed, gathering for the south the day i left colorado, the air smelled like my own youth an afternoon out of the mountains for a train my heart started to pound, others could hear it they turned their heads, i was sure except for one will you wait for my train with me we talked in a park, saying i knew from the beginning you didn’t have the fortitude i’m not sure if it’s fortitude exactly, more like an impulse of making the station silent, the late day sun across the pews i said this is the universal there, i could do this, i know this place without having been here the platform cleared and i said this is like a song, an odd film suddenly, breakfast in the landscape with a flower a near suffocation, but soon came chicago and chicago, home, and it was turning spring again i went to durham, knocking in the evening and then atlanta, a hot day in a cool office westward to alabama, through deep red pine trees it was a cool night, and rammed earth smelled like beets

and alabama happened

now it’s a cold morning in the rain the north has returned to get you, she said i went that way jb and i talked about alabama, risks worth taking then in nashville to skate music, coffee with phenis keepin cleanis, long days here of repetitious sitting, i made lists through the land between the lakes, at a nabokovian wayside i miss your existence (oh is that right?) then to ottawa in a crisp midwestern may: deep wind, bright foliage, walking with andrew and rosie melissa at the house, the back doors open where there was once a garden trough then chicago with dawn, a long companion as i call it conversations that years ago may have been surprising on a cold morning i went to the lake soon again, in grand rapids with another long companion you didn’t fail, i tried to explain tom, conversations that years ago may have been surprising ann arbor to d and k, ashton and wrigley warm spring nights of hockey at the corner eastward to cambridge now, with a stop in buffalo hello, here is my home, here are my kin can i join you? yes, and a crossing into boston, an intepid anxiety make it right, i said, make it right this was not a weekend for graduation and procession but reconciliation and setting out peace peace, peace, and i nearly cried evening at the cellar, and another with teddy, ingrid, sylvia, cryan, emilyp, kate, echristo, daniel, caitlin class day and light in the city like paris somehow yang and i discuss the heaviness michelle, shanks, ricky with champagne on a last night flowers falling in the new yard, birds, resilience this thing called harvard is over monta for naps and coffee, lingering in the square inman, people’s republic, topher, saif, brigid a final punjab with sabs, goodbye to you at ss a final 1369 with teddy, and the road again, south ricky in brooklyn, chang in union, easy e in baltimore, and rightly proud annapolis for phil, gail, dunc, mike a strange almost sinister silence in this history a day in washington, then durham by nightfall a week in durham in a long, lingering song abiding in many of the gaps, alex and emily soccer beneath the oaks, a drive southly more a walk up springer, then a goodbye, a long path. on foot across the land with moondog, rocketbug, blue, doublecheck, magnolia, pearl, listener, etc. the doc and the georgian long days at the sunnybank with its porches instruments in the evening and lingering rain farther north into cold wet mountains with the captain i closed out these days coming to virginia with limping waiting in a sundry town listening to storms along she came in a car a long-waited reunion at the francis marion driving in the wet night and timeless day farewell at the curb like a old radio ballad i feel like i’m in a dream beginning a new fall with gray silence came over me, hesitations of words after a month in the west here was my brother and ross teddy and clea walking into the mountains, buff in the water an el camino for the last days of summer against mt. tabor now to jill beyond alabama at the corroding beaches doog and sarah in a strange flat land with odd silences back to the east for tepid months of waiting the land became fallow again a purple evening at pamplona like in a film i can only watch her as the train goes on ending in the north again with persistent snow easy e and mike d on the sides of hills near calamity in the body, but also the heart this is the point, a passing on of a stand a trading of platforms and premises the taubman college supper club with jen, ciej, teman viva la revolucion at the house on heather many returns to the comfort of a home when i had none a harbor in more ways than one by dj and deniz and again became spring, in a week in march then april passes, and on the third of may, regeneration. this never should have passed us by some weeks of trepidation and hope ultimately hope (against hope) suddenly back in a place where i once began an old crew, five years and one week gone by and e please be on the other side another cold gray goodbye, and it is beautiful flying west now over the same land as always arriving back, returning forward a period for grace and will time and yes and we’re calling all the people and we’re calling all the people that were here this is a record of all the happenings of another may to may, a year gone by.