MY OP/ED COLUMN

(which, for now, has turned story)

ABOUT THE FIELD|

Groovy melodies play.

Low light, or none

whilst reading.

Hold lightly

(as most).

Light

sense

of humor.

Now, proceed.

Stay, as you wish.

There’s no correct order

(this’s map, or, at very least:

trail guide). Recent entries fall

to the top; so, perhaps begin

toward the bottom.

“FIELDNOTES OF A LIFE-WELL LIVED”

On-Going Fiction Novela

3 narrators

[fg (field-guide),

ki (beloved), shi (friend),

4th (voiceless) character, q].

Events reflect distant pasts: true,

fictional, bearing roots in experience.

The story is always incomplete, but

at best, intriguing & resonant.

[unrelated songs & poems interspersed as daily editorial]

Heed, Caution, Beware, Go Slow

(its dark)

[if you are new here]

the top few, most recent, entres are perpetually under construction]

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #102

[FG recalls

friendship, & desires

new lasting community]

SH[I]’S SOMEONE, lyrics by Desiree Dawson

Sh[i]’s someone

Someone I want to be here for

Sh[i]’s someone I want to be lovely to

Listen in close

Find things I can do

To make [their] life a bit breezier

A bit easier

Sh[i]’s someone who is

Learning everyday, who’s got

Lots on [their] heart & so much

To say. I’d like to be someone

Who listens, sings harmonies

In the kitchen. Sh[i]’s someone

Someone I could be there for.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #101

[FG responds to Q’s letter]

HARVEST LOVE, Lyrics by Tash Sultana

Harvest your love,

harvest your love, for me

I'll lay it down,

I'll lay it down, slowly

Put your hands on my face

At an orderly pace

I see

Put your love in the sand

As it makes no demands

I believe, I believe

But you keep on rolling

On a rolling stone

& you fight until the finish line

Carries you home

I had a plan,

I had a plan you see

It was based on the rules that my

mother and father taught me

Press the iron when it's hot

& you jump right in

Because the unfed mind

devours itself
Water your garden
Water your garden
Water your garden

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #100

[FG opens a letter from Q]

poem by Amie Whittemore

Hunter’s Moon

Walking below your near fullness, the fullness
               of life overtakes me—streetlights

wink off as if masking up. Starlings cascade.
               Even in a pandemic there is so much

beauty. What to make of these forty years?
               Moon, I have wanted most

to be brave and need nothing—I have wanted
               to be someone else. Like you,

I try to hunt everything at once. Like you,
               part of me is always turned away.

For once, I don’t want to call love a feral cat;
               I want to forgive myself the way water

forgives everything. I don’t know what kind
               of animal you stalk, but maybe

my hands can be as true as your stone.
               Maybe the work is always reflecting—

tell me, who needs me
               to show them how beautiful they are?

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #99 [FG & KI EXIT

THE VOLCANO TO REJOIN THE HUMAN RACE]

DOG DAYS, FLORENCE WELCH

[Verse 1]
Happiness hit [them] like a train on a track
Coming towards [them], stuck still, no turning back
[They] hid around corners & [they] hid under beds
[They] killed it with kisses &from it [they] fled
With every bubble, [they] sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

[Pre-Chorus]
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

[Chorus]
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come

[Bridge]
And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had
And what was left after that too, oh

[Verse 2]
Happiness hit [them] like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height
By someone who should know better than that

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #98, [FG USES KI’s IMPRINT

TO MAP THE FINAL DESCENT… & FINDS KI THERE]

COSMIC LOVE, FLORENCE WELCH

[Verse 1]
A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes
I screamed aloud, as it tore through them
And now it's left me blind

[Chorus]
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

[Verse 2]
And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness
So darkness I became

[Chorus]
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

[Bridge]
I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you

FIELDNOTES #97 [FG REVISITS TIME WITH KI]

THE BENDS, RADIOHEAD

[Verse 1]
Where do we go from here?
The words are coming out all weird
Where are you now when I need you?
Alone on an aeroplane
Falling asleep against the windowpane
My blood'll thicken

[Verse 2]
I need to wash myself again
To hide all the dirt and pain
'Cause I'd be scared that there's nothing underneath
And who are my real friends?
Have they all got the bends?
Am I really sinking this low?

[Chorus]
My baby's got the bends, oh no
We don't have any real friends
No, no, no

[Post-Chorus]
Just lying in a bar with my drip feed on
Talking to my girlfriend, waiting for something to happen
I wish it was the '60s, I wish we could be happy
I wish, I wish, I wish that something would happen

[Verse 3]
Where do we go from here?
The planet is a gunboat in a sea of fear
And where are you?
They brought in the CIA
The tanks and the whole marines
To blow me away, to blow me sky high

[Chorus]
My baby's got the bends
We don't have any real friends


[Bridge]
I wanna live, breathe
I wanna be a part of the human race
I wanna live, breathe
I wanna be a part of the human race, race, race, race

[Outro]
Where do we go from here?
The words are coming out all weird
Where are you now when I need you?

[Fieldnotes Entry #96, FG CONTINUES

TO SING, UNNAFFECTED BY VOLCANIC HEAT]

ON & ON, Erykah Badu

[Verse 1]
Oh my, my, my, I'm feeling high
My money's gone, I'm all alone
Too much to see
The world keeps turning
Oh what a day, what a day, what a day
Peace & blessings manifest with every lesson learned
If your knowledge were your wealth, then it would be well-earned
If we were made in his image, then call us by our names
Most intellects do not believe in God but they fear us just the same

[Chorus]
Oh, on and on and on and on
My cypher keeps moving like a rolling stone
Oh, on & on & on & on
All night 'til the break of dawn

Goddammit, I'ma sing my song

[Verse 2]
I was born under water
With three dollars and six dimes
Yeah, you might laugh
'Cause you did not do your math
Like one, two, three
(Damn, y'all feel that? Oh)
Like one, two, three
The world keeps turning
Oh what a day, what a day, what a day
The man that knows something knows that he knows nothing at all
Does it seem colder in your summertime & hotter in your fall?

[Fieldnotes Entry #96, FG CONTINUES

TO SING; GAINS STRENGTH & NUMBER]

Billie Eilish, OCEAN EYES

[Verse 1]
I've been watchin' you for some time
Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes
Burning cities and napalm skies
Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes
Your ocean eyes

[Chorus]
No fair
You really know how to make me cry
When you give me those ocean eyes
I'm scared
I've never fallen from quite this high
Fallin' into your ocean eyes
Those ocean eyes

[Verse 2]
I've been walkin' through a world gone blind
Can't stop thinkin' of your diamond mind
Careful creature made friends with time
[Ki] left [me] lonely with a diamond mind
And those ocean eyes

[Fieldnotes #95 FG BEGINS TO SING]

BON IVER, SKINNY LOVE

[Verse 1]
Come on, skinny love, just last the year
Pour a little salt, we were never here
My my my, my my my, my my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer
I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes & let me fall
My my my, my my my, my my
Right in this moment, this order's tall

[Chorus]
& I told you to be patient
& I told you to be fine
& I told you to be balanced
& I told you to be kind
& in the morning I'll be with you
But it will be a different kind
& I'll be holding all the tickets
& you'll be owning all the fines

[Verse 2]
Come on, skinny love, what happened here?
Suckle on the hope in light brassieres
My my my, my my my, my my
Sullen load is full, so slow on the split

WHEN WE WERE BIRDS, AYANNA LLOYD BANWO p234

Think yourself long. Think your body bigger

than itself. Your sinews will remember; you

know the meaning of scrifice. You will see

others that look like you remain small,

remain bird. Do not mind them. They have

their work & you have yours. Not all can

come where you must go.

Feel the chords in your throat reknit

themselves, hum, vivrate. Test your voice.

Not all beautiful things are pretty & your

..body has grown full, remember that you

remain brid inside. You have not forgotten

how to fly. For what is more .. than holding

death & life, sky & earth in your body same

time, to fly while earthbound?

WHEN WE WERE BIRDS, AYANNA LLOYD BANWO p232-233

Fold your wings in close to your body.

Shift your power to your legs.

Feel the muscles stretch & lengthen,

grow strong to walk the long

distances you will need to cover.

Use the sickle of your beak to pick

the feathers from your body. The first,

like plucking the very heart from your chest.

The second, like gouging an eye. Steel yourself.

The others will feel like mere pinpricks until

you don’t notice the pain at all. Bury each

black feather in a secret place in the flames.

Do not stay to watch the blaze singe it to dust.

The black smoke is paet of you now. Leave it be.

Excerpt from “Eve was Black,”

lyrics by Allison Russell

Back to the Motherland
Back to the Garden
…

Back to the Innocence
Back to the shine you lost

FILEDNOTES ENTRY #94: THE RESCUE

[all characters open separately

the envelopes shi tucked

into each’s pack,

including one’s own.]

Let the letter read you. Come back.

No one understands who you are

in that prison for the stone faced.

-RUMI

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #93

• A BEGINNING * [Fg dreams]

BEFORE LAND WAS PULLED FROM THE SEA

perhaps peace, dance converge/emerge/merged

somewhere in a dark. Perhaps, autism is

an uncrossable ocean between?

Perhaps, we are all

autistic some-

times with

someone?

Tired,

we grow

silent or

into motion.

FIELDNOTES

ENTRY

#92 [fg]

VOLCANIC STONES

ENCIRCLE spitting sweat

lodge: mother earth’s womb.

Seven months amid red-heat sweats

away disease to return humbly to mother

for another chance. No concern for absolute

consumption; here, we begin the search for ki.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #91

[fg scrambles on the rocks]

How many ______ are in the _____?

Great questions provide sense of place.

Fg nibbles some cheese & tries to recall.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #91 [fg calls q]

to appreciate the apple

crown. Q remains

unavailable for comment or

response. Fg sips long slow drags, &

INTRO-NOTES FROM THE ARCHIVE: Recordings 2011-2016, Maggie Rogers

I started writing songs as a way to process & document my life.

A few years later, music production became a way for me to hear

those songs alive & in the world in full form in the world.

This record is about looking back on those ten years of work.

It's about looking to the future by honoring the past. So, in

that spirit I've left all the recordings in their original forms.

They are so sturdy & real to me now as when I wrote them when

I was 16, 18, 20, & so much of this record is about the process.

It's about honoring the time it takes to come to a full form,

about artistic development & how important & sacred that process

is. & I wanted to give you the chance to hear me grow & hear me

make mistakes, hear me change because all of those pieces are

really beautiful parts of my present, & I don't feel complete

without them in the world. & it's really exciting to get to share

them. There are four different sections in this record starting

with my 2016 shoegaze-y Lower East Side rock band & moving to my

2014 independent record, Blood Ballet, my first band, Del Water Gap,

& my debut record, The Echo released in 2012 just as I was finishing

high school. The record is in reverse chronological order because

it's how I remember it. You know, you tell the story from the beginning,

but it's sort of impossible to tell where the story actually starts.

You know, does it start with my first harp lesson when I was six &

begged my parents for lessons? Does it start when I'm thirteen &

I'm in high school & I have so many hormones I don't know what to do

with them & I start writing them into songs? It's impossible to say,

but when I look back on this time I think of it back to front, & I

also like the idea that you can hear me get younger. I think that

that's hilarious. Like, I like that there's some weird Benjamin

Button timeline to the whole thing. It just makes me laugh, & I

also think leaving you with those earliest recordings makes

the future so much sweeter

BREAKOUT WITH GARY -

Fall Creative Writing Conference Sept 2022

[Write One Sentence]

Crescent moon hammocks her hollow

round (full) self (more opaque than jewel),

above one grassy footprint after another;

& this is how

we see ourselves,

tonight.

[Write One True Sentence]

My mother is my biggest fan.

[Write One False Statement]

I relish in a traffic jam & all the pavement, steaming.

[Write One Unanswerable Question]

How can you speak fully for another?

[Answer the Unanswerable Question]

My heart rate matches the antelopes’ cadence;

180bpm on a jeep track cut though high grass at sunrise.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #85-90

[insert poems + photos of HOME]

ie, love poems

BIG SMOKE, lyrics by Tash Sultana

(track 2 on the album, Flow State)

[Verse 1]
Well I was going down on my lines
And I heard that the waiting feel was fine
And I was readin' in between the lies
Like I held my hands right over my eyes
See, this is what I despise of you and I

[Verse 2]
I took a trip to the dark side
I placed it on my tongue
Re-wired my whole brain
Started hell it begun
The world drained from colour
Black and white was the sun
I forgot my own name
I forgot who I was

[Chorus]
But when the big smoke comes
I know the way
'Cause I wanna
Guide your love
Guide your love back home
'Cause when the big smoke comes
I know the way
'Cause I wanna guide your love
Back home

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #84 [fg] SENSES

SMOKE, a thickening in the air..

Close now; not long. Volcano: a

vessel——of which lava overpours,

like a painting of flowers——red,

yellow & orange——like ki’s aura,

the way——glow/er/s from a frame.

A WALK by Rainier Maria Rilke

My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-

and charges us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

Translated by Robert Bly

Mariner’s Apartment Complex, lyrics by Lana Del Rey
You took my sadness out of context
At the Mariners Apartment Complex
I ain't no candle in the wind
I'm the board, the lightning, the thunder
Kind of girl who's gonna make you wonder
Who you are and who you've been

[Pre-Chorus]
And who I've been is with you on these beaches
Your Venice bitch, your die-hard, your weakness
Maybe I could save you from your sins
So kiss the sky and whisper to Jesus
My, my, my, you found this, you need this
Take a deep breath, baby, let me in

[Chorus]
You lose your way, just take my hand
You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again
Don't look too far, right where you are, that's where I am
I'm your man
I'm your man

[Verse 2]
They mistook my kindness for weakness
I fucked up, I know that, but Jesus
Can't a girl just do the best she can?
Catch a wave and take in the sweetness
Think about it, the darkness, the deepness
All the things that make me who I am
[Pre-Chorus]
And who I am is a big-time believer
That people can change, but you don't have to leave her
When everyone's talking, you can make a stand
'Cause even in the dark, I feel your resistance
You can see my heart burning in the distance
Baby, baby, baby, I'm your man, yeah

[Chorus]
You lose your way, just take my hand
You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again
Don't look too far, right where you are, that's where I am
I'm your man
I'm your man

[Outro]
Catch a wave and take in the sweetness
Take in the sweetness
You want this, you need this
Are you ready for it?
Are you ready for it?

Lyrical excerpt from Heavy Ballon by Fiona Apple

(I spread like strawberries), I spread like strawberries
I climb like (I climb like peas and beans)
I spread like strawberries
I climb like peas and beans (That I'm busting at the seams)
I spread like strawberries
I climb like peas and beans

Lyrical excerpts from Thao Nygen

When we swam our love to pieces
We washed up on messy beaches
You cleaned dry, I would not drift yet
I should drink salt water to forget

Oh why, oh why, oh why
Won’t you sing

To me

Well once I arrived, but you would not receive me
I wanted it all, you could not tell
Then I paid expensive attention to detail
The fall of your face, the wish of the well

The Story, Lyrics by Brandi Carlile

I climbed across the mountaintops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby, I broke them all for you

Oh, because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks, you do
I was made for you

[Instrumental Break]

You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of our friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess

[Chorus]
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
And I was made for you

[Breakdown]
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am

[Chorus]
Oh, but these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to, it's true
I was made for you

[Outro]
Oh yeah, well, it's true
That I was made for you

[Intro: Lyrics by Chance The Rapper]
Angels (Na-na, na-na, ah)

*[parts of the song]

[Verse 1: Chance The Rapper]
I got my city doing front flips

I guess that's why they call it where I stay
Clean up the streets so my daughter can have somewhere to play

I'm the blueprint to a real man
I ain't goin' to hell or to Hillman

And my new shit sound like a rodeo
Got the old folks dancing the do-si-do

[Chorus: Saba]
They was talkin', "Woo, this woo wap da bam"
City so damn great, I feel like Alexand'

Wear your halo like a hat, that's like the latest fashion
I got angels all around me, they keep me surrounded

[Verse 2: Chance The Rapper]
I ain't change my number since the seventh grade
This for my day one, ten years, seven days

I'm still at my old church, only ever sold merch
Grandma say I'm Kosher, mama say I'm culture

GCI, 107.5, angel goin' live
Power 92, angel, juke, angel gon' juke

I got angels all around me, they keep me surrounded
[Refrain: Saba & Chance The Rapper]
Wap da bam (Na, na, na, na)
I got (I got angels)

excerpts from RAINFOREST, lyrics by Noname

[Chorus]
How you get closer to love?
How you lemonade all your sadness when you openin' up?

Because, because a rainforest cries
Everybody dies a little

And I just wanna dance tonight
And I just wanna dance tonight

Ah, yeah


It's a rabbit inside my hat, angel all dressed up
Lookin' to bless up at the milk & the honey gates

I make money for money sake, I been writin' a hundred days

You know this flesh is only temporary, brittle as bone
Why don't you empty out your love for me, then chisel the stone?

These are ten Black commandments, a property loan
'Cause every bladed grass of earth, we don't actually own

"I am the I am," says Sam am I
The universe bleeds infinity, you got one life

They turned a natural resource into a bundle of cash
Made the world anti-Black, then divided the class

How you get closer to love?
How you lemonade all your sadness when you openin' up?

Because, because a rainforest cries
Everybody dies a little

And I just wanna dance tonight
And I just wanna dance tonight

Ah, yeah

JUST CALL ME JOE, lyrics by Sinead O’conner, excerpt

We came here across the great divide
Into the city, slander all eyes
We found a great love as we fell inside
They could not touch us as we'd go by

But I'll see you later, we'll talk of black
We'll meet up for sure, oh, will we not?
Away from all of the friends that you've got
Oh no, oh no

I said, "Don't call me sir, oh, just call me Joe
Don't call me lady, oh, just call me Joe
Don't call me mister, oh, just call me Joe
Don't call me sweetheart

Just call me Joe"

You wear the best clothes that I've ever seen
I've seen your light & your poetry
& it's the best thing that there's ever been
You're both the beauty & the beast

That's how it is & that's how it end
Into another city where you live far away
That's how it is & that's how it end
You've seen my face, but you've never heard my name

Oh no, oh-oh

excerpts from FIRST LOVE LETTER by Julia Alvarez

Dearest——

Addressed by your hand the envelope seems

posted from an earlier century.

My full name I divulged to you one night

looks like an old title, the letter jeweled,

the accents——extra ones!——like music notes:

it’s a wonder somebody didn’t steal the mail

from the old postbox at the end of the path.

I take the letter on my daily walk, trespassing

through the deserted lakefront lawns

of the summer people, already gutsier

for your letter in my jacket pocket, already

transformed by your calligraphy

into a sad, beautiful heroine

living with her best girlfriend between jobs,

between great loves that have moved her

here & there in the name of love.

The heroine roams the fields

under the high blue skies of late September.

See her in her black silks go pacing by,

headed toward the point where locals tell

there’ve been a couple of hardback suicides.

Let’s hope the wise Yarnall into whose care

our heroine’s consigned will come in time

to coax her from the gleaming rocks below

with a warm shawl & a steaming cup of tea.

That’s how you make me feel when I receive

your scripted envelope, the off-white paper

starched linens on a curtained bed,

the heft of the packet slightly heavier

than regular mail, my head light...

until I tear the envelope only to read

the mundane news of your everyday life.

(Finished the watercolors for the children’s book,

Jennifer’s had a bad cold for a week,

builders began work on the new house.)

Disappointed, I watch the gulls wheeling

above the lake in the near shapes of letters

like the scattered alphabet I’ve carried in my head

this long year of not being able to write.

I used to think them beautiful background birds

until I read somewhere they’re scavengers

who flock to landfills trilling their greedy cries.

Oh, what a heap of trashy fantasy

& purple prose (accidentally typed “purpose”) of romance fills my head——

I, who have learned of love mostly from books I love!

My Romeos, Heathcliffs, my Anthony’s,

like rich brocaded tapestries

hiding you from my view, whoever you are.

MY cautious heart tempered by irony

& far too many heady heartbreaks

knows this will never do for daily love.

Where was it recently I read the phrase,

the healing beauty of everything that is

commonplace? Some book I love, no doubt.

My dear, let us be plain & simple with each other,

talk high Romance, but then come down to earth,

the right place for love, the poet I love sayeth.

I roam the woods & fields & pebbled shore,

the brief, make-believe heroine of Wings Point,

glad enough with the beauty of this spot

my good friend Yarnall lives on,

glad also that your printed words have drawn

words from my silence like doves from a hat,

most glad as I refold the heavy sheet

back into its envelope emblazoned with

my name made gorgeous by your gifted hand

to have as antidote upon my lips

your common-sounding, no less cherished name——

Joe.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #83

[FG, MADE READY, DESCENDS]

NOTHING COMPARES TO YOU,

composed by Prince, sung by Sinead.

#RIP, may the world grow kinder.

[Verse 1]
It's been seven hours and fifteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing, I said, nothing can take away these blues

[Chorus]
'Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you

[Verse 2]
It's been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me, baby, where did I go wrong?
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they'd only remind me of you
I went to the doctor and guess what he told me, guess what he told me
He said, "Girl, you better try to have fun no matter what you do," but he's a fool

[Chorus]
'Cause nothing compares

Nothing compares to you.

[Verse 1]
Watching TV tired, bleeding on the bed
The milk has just expired, all the leaves are dead
I'm not quiet, you've been quiet, just receiving what you said
Reeling, feeding, feeling filled by everything you fed
I see you as you see yourself through all the books you read
Overwhelmed with guilt and realizing the disease

[Chorus]
You give me chills, I've had it with the drills
I am nothing, you are nothing, we are nothing with the pills
I am empty 'til she fills, alive until she kills
In her vampire empire, I am

[Post-Chorus]
Falling, yeah
Falling, yeah

[Verse 2]
I see you there rejecting all your earthly power
Protecting and dissecting 'til you've emptied every hour
We jump into the pond, then we come under the shower
You lay upon my pillow and you open like a flower
I wanted to see you naked, I wanted to hear you scream
Wanted to kiss your skin and your everything
I wanted to be your woman, I wanted to be your man
I wanted to be the one that you could understand

[Bridge]
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
Oh-oh
Oh

[Verse 3]
Well, I walked into your dagger for the last time
It's like trying to start a fire with matches in the snow
Where you can't seem to hold me, can't seem to let me go
So I can't find surrender, and I can't keep control
You turn me inside out and then you want the outside in
You spin me all around, then you ask me not to spin
You say you want to be alone, and you want children
You wanna be with me, you wanna be with him

[Chorus]
You give me chills, I've had it with the drills
I am nothing, you are nothing, we are nothing with the pills
I am empty 'til she fills, alive until she kills
In her vampire empire, I am

[Post-Chorus]
Falling, yeah

[Together, Q & fg refer back to Fieldnotes Entry #67]

FIELDNOTES #82

[fg’s cold feet]

I pushed them away;

expecting this cross

too painful for most

anyone to bear

witness.

So,

I

pushed

them back, safe.

Alone, except for Q,

always at a distance. We

hold hands in stillness

for hours, knowing,

& unknowing.

FIELDNOTES #81

[fg pursues ki]

DOWN THE VOLCANO

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #80 [fg]

THE FEW SURVIVAL ITEMS ONE NEEDS ON HAND

to Exist in modern environments.

aka

to fall/renew/remain in love.

aka

to create something.

aka

How to Gather a Survival Kit,

by Red Cross

aka

fg chases ki

eternally.

Is this manhood?

Water: one gallon per person, per day (3-day supply for evacuation, 2-week supply for home)

1. Food: non-perishable, easy-to-prepare items (3-day supply for evacuation, 2-week supply for home)

2. Flashlight 

3. Battery-powered or hand-crank radio (NOAA Weather Radio, if possible)

4. Extra batteries (Similar item available in the Red Cross Store)

5. Deluxe family first aid kit

6. Medications (7-day supply) medical items

7. Multi-purpose tool

8. Sanitation & personal hygiene items

9. Copies of personal documents (medication list & pertinent medical information, proof of address, deed/lease to home, passports, birth certificates, insurance policies)

10. Cell phone with chargers (Similar item available in the Red Cross Store)

11. Family & emergency contact information

12. Extra cash

13. Emergency blanket

14. Map(s) of the area

Consider the needs of all family members & add supplies to your kit:

• Medical supplies (hearing aids with extra batteries, glasses, contact lenses, syringes)

• Baby supplies (bottles, formula, baby food, diapers)

• Games & activities for children

• Pet supplies (collar, leash, ID, food, carrier, bowl)

• Two-way radios

• Extra set of car keys & house keys

• Manual can opener

• Whistle

• N95 or surgical masks

• Matches Rain gear

• Towels

• Work gloves

• Tools/supplies for securing your home

• Extra clothing, hat & sturdy shoes

• Plastic sheeting

• Duct tape Scissors

• Household liquid bleach

• Entertainment items

• Blankets or sleeping bag

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #79

[The Beginning, all characters]

A WAY SO CLEAR IT GLOWS.

They begin gathering

supplies, as the way

may separate them.

Loop Back to Fieldnotes Entry #1

{ctrl F}

& scroll up from there.

Fieldnotes Entry #78

[FG forgets everything] *after the apocalypse,

begins writing from scraps, dirt

PRIMARY COLORS 

Would we be less trolls under bridges if we built?

This brake—we forgot was on;

we were holding on.

Crush ants to oil, smear feathers, lash.

To exit is to let go. Rainfall,

quench the cactus searching

for clean water, not this mis-sorted breathing.

Let’s loop the bridge. Frolic.

We dress in sunhats

for a loop to the bridge, cardinals, moss.

Nonchalent cardinals fly

from tangled path, 

tickling forest under foot. Moss & pine.

Damp earth encloses. Lay my ear

here. No sound. Ki says, that is the best

pushup I’ve seen you do.

You say, I was smelling moss. 

Let’s loop a bridge. Mist, milkweed, tumbled

grass. We finish with &

without a flourish. 

If you think ________ are more _________

than __________, ask yourself, how much more

could they be with the same freedoms—over generations

(with a culture of equitable support)?

& I wonder, can i be cute forever?

The truth is

I like my chances.

-Yasiin Bey (mos Def), Erykbah Badu’s #UnfollowMe Tour

Bilingual Sestina | Julia Alvarez

Some things I have to say ain’t getting said
in this snowy, blond, blue-eyed, gum-chewing English
dawn’s early light sifting through persianas closed
the night before by dark-skinned girls whose words
evoke cama, aposento, suenos in nombres
from that first world I can’t translate from Spanish.

Gladys, Rosario, Altagracia—the sounds of Spanish
wash over me like warm island waters as I say
your soothing names: a child again learning the nombres
of things you point to in the world before English
turned sol, tierra, cielo, luna to vocabulary words—
sun, earth, sky, moon. Language closed

like the touch-sensitive morivivi whose leaves closed
when we kids poked them, astonished. Even Spanish
failed us back then when we saw how frail a word is
when faced with the thing it names. How saying
its name won’t always summon up in Spanish or English
the full blown genie from the bottled nombre.

Gladys, I summon you back by saying your nombre.
Open up again the house of slatted windows closed
since childhood, where palabras left behind for English
stand dusty and awkward in neglected Spanish.
Rosario, muse of el patio, sing to me and through me say
that world again, begin first with those first words

you put in my mouth as you pointed to the world—
not Adam, not God, but a country girl numbering
the stars, the blades of grass, warming the sun by saying,
Que calor! As you opened up the morning closed
inside the night until you sang in Spanish,
estas son las mananitas, and listening in bed, no English

yet in my head to confuse me with translations, no English
doubling the world with synonyms, no dizzying array of words
--the world was simple and intact in Spanish—
luna, sol, casa, luz, flor, as if the nombres
were the outer skin of things, as if the words were so close
one left a mist of breath on things by saying

their names, an intimacy I now yearn for in English—
words so close to what I mean that I almost hear my Spanish
heart beating, beating inside what I say en ingles.

Elle Puckett, Bad Dog Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Sometimes I feel like your lover
Savor salt when I’m there
But it feels like I’m drowning in the thick heavy air
And I’m only your souvenir

[Chorus]
You put me outside like a bad dog
And you know you’re missing out
On my love
On my love

NINA CRIED POWER song by HOZIER & MAVIS STAPLES

[Verse 1: Hozier]
It's not the waking, it's the rising
It is the grounding of a foot uncompromising
It's not forgoing of the lie
It's not the opening of eyes
It's not the waking, it's the rising
It's not the shade, we should be past it
It's the light, and it's the obstacle that casts it
It's the heat that drives the light
It's the fire it ignites
It's not the waking, it's the rising
It's not the song, it is the singing
It's the hearing of a human spirit ringing
It is the bringing of the line
It is the bearing of the rhyme
It's not the waking, it's the rising

[Chorus: Hozier & Mavis Staples]
And I could cry power (Power), power (Power)
Power, Lord
Nina cried power
Billie cried power
Mavis cried power
And I could cry (Power) power, (Power) power
Hey, power
Curtis cried power
Patti cried power
Nina cried power

Lit/South Awards 2022

Amie Whittemore

If No One Opens Us, We’ll Thirst

from her forthcoming book Nest of Matches, 2024

I picked up zinnias at the farm
and because she was with me
and we had fresh salsa to eat,

cherry tomatoes that tasted
just like summer afternoon
rain, I put them in water

without trimming the stems.
Two days later, they sag
with thirst, unable to drink—

I forgot the fundamental rule
of bouquets: you must open
the wound to extend the bloom.

I’m not sure this is a rule
for everything and if it is,
I’m not sure what to do with it.

The young couple next door
is arguing again—she wants to be
a good wife, he says he didn’t

buy oxy, he’s still clean as soap.
I want to tape a note to their
front door: walk away.

Though I’m trying to enter
a new season where I don’t
barricade love, make it sleep

on the stoop, I haven’t lost
my faith in cutting losses.
My high school English teacher

often proclaimed no one should
marry until forty, advice,
like all advice, I’m sure she wished

she followed herself, married
young and stuck in our small town.
We don’t realize how needful

we are. I feel terrible
about the zinnias, like I’m the one
who killed them, though they were dead

the moment I saw them, troughed
in the farm shed, pink and orange—
the color of my aura, she said.

She keeps entering poems the way
water enters roots. I won’t stop it.
Stop it, I want to say to the couple

whose wounds leak through
our shared wall, sharp and sallow.
We have everything to lose.

Refer back to ENTRY #19 [fg] UNRAVEL, EVAPORATE

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #77

[shi reflects on rebirth]

When we return [from dead], we

rely on those who love us

to provide pasture, to

remind us milkweed;

like cotton, but

different.

Only we

living

can tell

how softly.

FIELDNOTES #76 [SHI

Prepares to Write]

Open window,

lap desk, & liked songs

shuffle. Wild Fox of Yemen, by

Threa Almonteser open: In caverns

of death my country neither dies

nor recovers.. digs in the muted

graves looking for its pure

origins.-Abdullah

Al-Boradouni

Almonteser has inked, My girliness

is the size of a Cerebus. Unchain it

out of my body, serpent tail tombing

the clear suburb. It is not tasteful

to fuck with the Tooth Fairy, baby

teeth planted in the oleanders.

To beat up boys at the park,

make one my wife.

A queer man taught me how

to move in a small college town

then how to walk in a big country town

without a bottle. Tangerines, & persimmons,

sugarcane, grapes, honeydew, melon, Waxahatchee

sings. Lemon trees don’t make a sound, & we no longer

go lookin’ for thoughts. Sweet baby, take the glory anyday

over the fame, oh. Sometimes sideways rain, always weather;

we are Mercutio who lived with the scar. How Big how Blue*.

*Florence

FIELDNOTES #75 [fg]

MORE COFFEE?,

asks Barista. Why?

So we may help wild

flora hold blue sky; our

                        turn in the meadow. Broken-

winged young blackbird, do

you hurt wryly, too?

                                                 Who knows

hymns

anymore?

Who takes

                                        cream, sugar?

FIELDNOTES #74 [fg] YOU TAUGHT ME

We celebrate whom                  we’ve empowered

We have nice things     We don’t need much

Each piece both beautiful &         multifunctional

Food’s soul not dead          Upon eating, cooking

Moons wage——                   They _______ us through

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #73 [fg dreams]

THROUGH SELVES, plant ancho, poems, 

exordial interviews, fieldnotes, short

stories. We advocate sense. Send favors.

We feed each other. Vanilla, strange wine

tastes of muddled gale. We drink & open

this panic basket, a thesis like a

cracked piñata—— bat inside. 

To verbalize is pressure:

So, take the swing.

FIELDNOTES #72 [fg]

I BLANKET DIVE

into a puddle

in desert,

unchained

to any trunk——

This means DREAM.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #71

[fg’s cabin reverie]

SANDY & FADED

& even more hungry, while full

clouds pass. Hazy, murky, sweet

solstice has leaked under door’s——

ajar? A nap? I imagine dove feathers,

a shared weight. I imagine your hands

on me, keeping an orderly pace, until

you can’t. Is that a question while

we wrap in these cotton sheets?

Eyelashes on the pillow. 

FG refers back to Entry #15.

[command/cntrl + F, search #15)]

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #70 [fg]

MIMOSAS SPIRAL

Beyond magnolias, sticky thread, &

shrub dew. Neat spinners turn orbs

from spokes & scaffolds. Luminous

recoil flourishes! From tangles,

trapdoors! You’ll stay awhile?

Sure, let’s lure flies from

persimmons. I whisper

years gone loose.

A few hours by

surf? Ok.

When we

leave

we clap

to the cabin.

REFLECTIONS & LOOPING refer back to

#49 WHEN WE LOST KI ON THE VINE

#48 I RAN ALONG THE RIVER

#32 [fg] BY PALMS I GATHER

                  FIELDNOTES ENTRY #69 [fg]

                  MID-MORNING

                  Sunglasses. Water laps, boat passes, inchworm inches. 

                  Crumbs. Familiar messages.

                                              Note this, rainbows tuck.

                  Chorus.

                  Froth. More space than fill.

                  Places might strain

                  to flap wings— (tornadoes, meanderings). Sunset

                  blues lean on our doors. Crow gifts: string, cellophane, 

                  Gifts from self: Mistakes. No excuses. A letter,

                  Grass isn't greener, it’s fake, someone says.

                                                             I’m squinting.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #68 [fg]

COFFEE PERCOLATES, A PINCH OF CARDAMOM  

keeps jitters away. Pinch of cinnamon, nostalgia.

Pour batter into iron. Waffles crisp, butter melts.

Q stretches awake, pours a glass of juice;

 We grow a moment older. 

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #67 [fg]

EMPTY SPENT GROUNDS, garden

grows; two pots basil, one cilantro.

Seeds from friends’ hands to ours, fragrant.

Wordless secrets permeate dirt, water, us——synthesizing

sunlight into story. My fingers, cold in inky soil & last week’s

scraps. Coffee hot, I sit to write this, fresh as momentum for

a well-lived day steams morning. While water pours steady

from brass, I decide to start with what I know——Start

with love (say it low). Cool tile. Lavender,

clean cotton socks; warm morning scent. 

Fold eggs to flour; fold questions

one at a time. I catch the self

in a window——auburn hair’s

silver-lit reflection; reminder

perhaps, days ahead. Vast umber eyes.

Tell them they’re beautiful, yearn

their gentle creases. They

say I love you, too.

To determine if fg has awoken from

the dream refer back to:

 FIELDNOTES ENTRY #66 [fg]

STONES, BEESWAX candles, oils, tea

mugs line sills. Flames sway by pine,

dripping jewelry; turquoise & silver.

Outside, a latticework of dew-more-

than-frost glosses branches. Warm

laundry resets my intention:

Shake mats. Photos on the

fridge: family——rested, smiling.

Friends decorate the perimeter. Tender

inside magnets, metal. Thank you, thanks

you say aloud as you hinge a deep stretch

to this earth. Inner peace is more real

than any state of being, you say

during the middle few. As

most these days, we

wouldn’t change

a thing.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #65 [fg]

YOU’D LIKE A TOUR

of the shed I built?

Flowers, vinegar, & wool

ball for laundry. Postcards

& leftover coffee——less strange

than ridge; howl at what’s written.

May I smoke——? Orange & gold shimmer. 

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #64 [shi’s fire,

fg approaches] BOTTLES IN TOW. Spruce.

Onion, salty & blistered. Mustard packets

stashed from a drive. Senses crisp. Obsidian

smoke; survival, memory, bones on a trail.

Workable clay, roots. Flicker, I come

down; begin again. How do you?

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #63 [shi]

UMBRELLA ACCEPTS RAIN

We lead into the swerving blush

stone, as a bee follows on the trail——

Rain-darkened pine inside the amphitheater——

We rotate reading aloud in the damp canyon.

We compare our days’ fieldnotes, unwrap

pepper, crackers, cheese, sparkling

water from the roadside.

FIELDNOTES #62 [fg]

TODAY I’LL RUN, NAP AFTER

BREAKFAST, SIP

tea. Birds chirp. I watch,

down & out there, 

the assembly, crisp.

No haste. Central

to dance: dancing——All day

in a writing haze, lush

euphoric daze, I notice windows—

& vegetable bushel:

 Blend. I acknowledge, I’ve retired

from so much,

especially whole hope,

even losses.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #61 [fg] CHERRY MORNING

& breakfast is served; hot wind sweeps through sleep.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #60 [fg & shi hike to cabin at dusk]

UNBUCKLE YOUR HARNESS, swivel out from the pack.

(seems heavier now) False finish lines abound. 

Closer. Finally twenty pounds of everything

you need drops from your sweat-soaked back.

You enjoy a new lightness. Descend the rope

slowly. Current mission: pump three bottles

clear stream water. Wade ankle deep. Consider

words. Prune mistakes, loft mice, less sleep. 

Dark solstice curves. See these tracks? A wolf?

You ask this pond to feed you. We share. Your ask

appears docile, untamable (no words for this). Pump.

[FIELDNOTES ENTRY #59, FG finds a card from Q]

DEATH, REVERSED

*unrelated poem draft written with (AW)

If I fall off the horse, who skips

                                stones through the fire?    

You cannot turn danger to charm,

                               nor wanderers parallel.

Reversed we know another coast

                               will guide you as long as

you listen to distant circling.

                               Flame swooping over——If

no one helps you long enough (see,

I am beyond where talons house

dawn) you may meet a vulture handing

you a bouquet, two keys, shaking

you awake. Well then——fly cold leather,

beautiful cold shell. Red lines

thin, their bright song. Turn metal in

your palm. Light glints

a thousand hats; would I have deciphered

your name: violet, blue

& silver as it is? Rewind our griefs——

our cargo, what bodies ship.

Wings spread, so as to stave off danger,

                           so protecting a zero. Longing,

majestic intelligence does not conform.

                            Was I ever your forecast?  

I’m in my knightly garb, on my white horse—

                           you know your flag 

has two sides. We often only attend to one.

                            Ancient used to leave dead on

platforms. The drought stood for when I

                            walked the sidewalks of distant

cities singing your names. Did I lip them

                            then into the salt of my wounds?

Death: fearless when confronted. Clear 

         your mind——your plan of action—— 

when to focus, to comprehend. Your name 

                contains echo & reverb,

an etch, a loose twig. That means binding,

                             means open. So when

you pull death, king of sky——raptors’ eyes

                          measure the soar.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #58

[fg & , a reverie]

GOLD HOOPS ON MY SHOULDER, late

night, on this swing, our lips almost

upturn. Hot night, beer, pizza, red wine.

Listen, eyes closed. I, less patient with

a joint in-hand: tunnels, a loop back,

hands raised high. I summon a dream.

We wake up along this babbling

crick. Nearly full violet

moon helps us relax

while finishing 

the trek.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #57

[fg’s fever dream]

LET CROCUS SATVIUS strike kis*

saffron spell. Dark orange

strands, cerebral

braids. Imagine——  

Enchanted tufts cure

melancholic wreck——limbic

song, flute’s fragmentary lungs:

Tickle, thumb, tease. Grapple gold

milk tea. Jiggle sense. Flower fruit

drop dusk. Symphonies fruit, peach.

 Even ghosts will harbor at the

fuse. Let’s smoke

a bay

leaf

steeped

for days, relax

on sedative. Ritual,

channels——steady. Dusk

/ dawns, cups varied.

Compress. Sing.

*ki (kis)

in this case refers

to animacy,

or earthly being

(as opposed to “its”).

[loop back

to

ENTRY #38

for closer aperture

of

fg beginning

to

divide oneself

=

death & renewal]

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #56 [fg & shi receive

signals ki does not want to be located]

NO LIDS COVER

Temperatures deflate while haltered 

breezes wrap our ribs, rising full. 

Emptiness sinks, feeds our abdomens,

our necks——purposeful sprigs stem of

eulogy’s farewell (gray on a burm).

Our eyes lay storm’s damage & light

rain reaches just beyond our bare

wrists. Look, where pane’s awash 

with ash. Griefs join, a promising

fleet. These lost edges convey rust,

like tainted markers; like velocity

of gravity’s a route which gains

momentum in the falling. To

dive like a loon: is

sometimes for

nothing.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #55

[fg & shi] WANING MOON

                              But where is ki?

Just to make sure—

We call from the boat,    dancing until

the field (that flashing unstructure)

unravels.

We only know             the aim ceased

                        to be                 here.

We stay;        So we may pour a glass       

to toast dawn

from the blue-beige midnight light.

Say we escaped—                       

I recall ki’s

                                       face turning.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #54 [fg & ki, memory]

CINNAMON ON THE DOORSTEP, on the walls.

Our throats clear,

geraniums exhale after

sunset blues lean on bloodstone

frames. A full storm of hives, honey -

while our tarped houses

flap, inverted color, the pull (a place)

a cautious

widening entry). Wildflowers.

Your eyes,

deep -

I’ll table for you.

Hot, I slide the tray inside.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #53

[fg] REFLECTS. SOMETIMES

chastisement from a whole

adult, loving, with moral

value is what I need——

while I learn to part

with healthy remembrance.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #52

[ki] UNCOVERS THE SECRET:

Skeleton bellows abating.

fg ruts around, aubading.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #51

[fg & shi search for ki]

DESERT LIGHT

Thunder’s anthem unwinds

while we dust a new sand

from this skin. Our limbs

have lost their velvet. We

contour a long-gone sun,

exchange longing for another

day. We’ll reflect its flame.

[for zoomed aperture of fg & ki on the vine, refer back to ENTRY #31]

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #50 [shi

wades while fg & ki swing]

We weaved this basket, 

too, from nettle stings

& dandelion; pasture to

cerulean. Bridges rose

wild along a turquoise

stream. Webs will change

because the fundamentals

remain: Glitter & remedy 

of humor, practice held 

loosely——restarts watch 

smooth in the warm air.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #49

WHEN WE LOST KI ON THE VINE

PART II : BOAT TO ISLAND [fg]

I guided the boat along

early morning glass.

Shi yawned on the bow.

Dawn dripped along edges.

We rolled on gentle current as

it swayed us from metronome blindness

to paradise. Wake behind, we sought sunrise.

Starboard dew condensates under settling haze

& birdsong. Spiders’ moonlit work awaits.

Along waves’ rise & fall, shi hums

to no one——We’re coming home..

The doing feel is fine,

& the waiting

feel is fine. 

We’ll see this

through.. Webs

glisten onshore.

We scan

the checklist:

water, filter, bottle,

matches, lamp, food,

knife. Check, I

say. Check,

ki says. 

Check, shi

says, anchoring ashore.

We test the chain; anchor loosens.

We reset it. Swim before sunrise?

*Dialogue from above & below passages

is borrowed & extrapolated from

the song Big Smoke (entry #49)

by Tash Sultana & a found

youtube interview with

them circa 2017

(entry #48)

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #48 [fg & shi]

I RAN ALONG the river, to

shi’s door. They

answer in brimmed

hat, bright smile. What brings you?

I shrug & look up.

I am lost.

Come in. Tea.

Extra sugar for you,

Shi winks; a laugh thaws

my face, & I thank them. 

You’re welcome. Cheers,

sip. Stripped back

sounds fill

this

airy

room,

paint

splayed

walls.

Plants, oil, canvas, crackling fire.

Laid back strings. I lean towards

shi. My eyes close. What’s

the way?, I whisper. 

Music takes me,

they say.  

Do you know who you are? 

May I swear?, they ask. 

Of course. 

Good, Where I’m from,

we’re born with that

on our tongues:

Fuck

——been gigging forever. 

We practice, play. Some say

this success happened overnight;

such fucking bullshit man. We started

busking while broke. With no direction,

no income, worked out a little system.

Battery first on the cart, stereo &

instruments on top. On to a bus.

As the littlest on the street,

doesn’t matter if the rig’s as

tall as us——didn’t like the idea

of coming home, doing their work. Not

my style. We networked, snuck in pubs. A

few understood, we’re meant to be here.

We’d play concerts for family &

played ever since. Hey,

take your own hand,

be yourself.

Ok? *(TS)

Who am I?

Find out.

Play. Turn keys,

find pulleys, back alleys.

Until you get through. We plant

seeds, chill, & enjoy a ride all

the way down, all the way up,

back to the start. Sculpt

creative spaces, sound.

Learning changes pathways.

In full focus, we forget the back-

ground, the mind fully immerses; passion;

Music makes us.

Remember, this place

has basic rules:

gravity, geography, time. 

Who’s to say I’m ready?

Did I ask for this? 

Here you are.

Through cliffs & dark

places (no map), on my doorstep.

Surely, you’ve begun. Best find

your own breadcrumbs. Love

what you do, focus on

that. Everyday’s

a stage, every night.

With you, community shows

up. Create space, amplify

relief, release. Share

reverence. We’re

trying to bury

to make space.

Life changes,

we’ve changed.

We’ve grown up, mind’s

different. We could use fresh

perspective, too. Let’s take

a trip this month?

Been too long.

Let’s go. ki, too.

Shi offers me a ride home,

I insist on running. Thanks for tea.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #47 [shi & fg]

ENTERING THE IMAGINATION,

[shi] ROOMS WILL EVOLVE to extraordinary versions.

[fg] Your audience becomes elevator companions,

sound-tracked, curated by you.

[shi] Going up or down?

[fg] To uncluttered perspective, to the below-

ground river where paradise prisms water

clean of sticky pavement, sticky players.

[shi] Process. We gain power in number.

[fg] But I’m on either side of

the wall unable to cross.

[shi] …to see channels forgotten

[fg] I’m brimming as buried rose quartz.

[shi] Humor’s a practice held loosely.

[fg] I’m crossing; air’s clear between us.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #46 [shi approaches carrying two rocks]

PREP THE SOIL, til & dig.

I mean, we have difficulty finishing sentences

as if these days don’t exist.

Would we be less trolls under bridges if we built?

What state do we swear by?

What hats do we hang?

Glasses, do they still clink?

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #45 [fg & spiders] GROW LIGHTER

Carry symbols instead of a suitcase A petal

Worth a lifetime I hear your voice

As soon as I do I calm

Someone claps with

Clean slate

Two rocks

!

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #44 [spiders & fg]

STILL SOLITCE. Side-log glow——

built with your hands. (Fold

them behind evening, past

sundown, head bowed). Diffuse

with empty lilies. Brimmed black

hat, folded palms. We ask how you

feel: high or low, good or not?

You say you’ll decide when

your legs stop

cramping.

One last step.

Get water. Laugh. Another

steep sandy hill & hand-rope divides

camp from the low creek. Find strength, 

again, from nature’s infinite well. 

Word-less, we nurture fire.

Tiny twigs, grass, dry

blades; nurture

any bit. Hope.

Soon will burns

for its own. Lone

freedom. Do you need

light to write? No, you

are star-imbibed, & you say

Moon is plenty tonight. Words

point out energy transfer, tender

spark. Roles reverse underground

levels you engender deeply.

Your garments ornament

branches like a

superbloom.

FIELDNOTES ENTRY #44 [fg]

I TRACE ink curves on my shoulder——dawn,

on the launch——we were eating apples——

Our laughter like no tomorrow,

& all rainy season you abandoned me

rings like screws in a tin can.

Beneath a shed I built that summer,

forever in my dreams, confronted

with a thing like mortality, I begin

pulling roots, or maybe it was ki?

While things like sentences & walks

won’t work, while pillows pile around

us? Days dry & toes dig; eyes swallow

waves swallowing ­­­selves;

Was this the careless side

effect of not caring too much?

I didn’t realize I needed, will need,

only ki

to not.

Urgently, photos become silhouette,

become shadow, gone looking——

What I’d hoped

would be a tug

on the line:

A quick snap of thread.

So, in April, I kiss

you in the after..




But if you & my heart should someday drift apart

I’ll make surе to give you these blеssings because

they’re all I’ve got. My love’s deep as the ocean,

don’t you drown on me. Just know, any love I gave

you is forever yours to keep.

-Kali Uchis

FIELDNOTES #43 [fg]

A BOOMERANG bounces

inside my lids.

What do you know

that I don’t know

you know? I know less

about love——everything

flesh——or centered in

a rose.

I

wish

you

roses

while

you

can

still

drink

them.