I HAVEN'T SET UP FOR TUESDAY YET
315. 'BUT I HAVE FRAGMENTED MY LIFE SO AS TO SEE IT IN PIECES' (I haven't set up for Tuesday yet):
There are so many things I never really wanted but ended up with anyway – but that’s probably the way it is with things like that and it all reminds me of the guy buying two-by-fours in the lumber yard while figuring that with a little planning and some few more purchases of wood he’ll soon have that entire extension to his house completed and yet three months before he wasn’t even sure which end of a hammer was used to hit which size of a nail and nevertheless in just a little time it’s all about finished and over and he’s got no clue what he just did but dangling so high like that over a precipice can make anyone nervous and the only quote really worth uttering is ‘que se rompe la cuerda’ which actually means ‘let the rope break’ by which is MEANT ‘please help me by letting this cruel illusion end and let me see really what it is I have done and what it is that I am walking carefully over (two tiny feet on a thin thin rope) and before I say help let me NOT lose all hope – for letting this end will at least bring me to my senses’ - and it’s like that living this life (for the crap piles up the tasks grow higher and the rivers and bridges are soon either too high or too low for any real passage) but I have fragmented my life so as to see it in pieces and now it appears as if every few days I review BEFORE THEY HAPPEN the things which will occur the next day : I see spiders in their web – centered in the hot Summer’s end and two days later I see the very same spider (illustrated and all) in an article about spiders and their webs in this year’s wet warm season YET I see this life as a work in progress (as in Philip Larkin’s memorable phrase) – ‘smaller and clearer as the years go by’.
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And do then why are you running like a madman past five hundred things I see the eye and the eye is watching and all of this life is nothing but a moment a sieve something leaking high and mighty on down from above - which is only a direction not a time and place - and all the circumstantial evidence leads only to the scrim of the stage : the one dark spot where the ladies linger dressing in their stage robes and commingling with the oasis and the workmen who make the scenery they are about as well and talking to one another sitting and grimacing the twisted faces of the demented the declined the lost and they flail about as well as anyone and the men with scripts are walking onto the scene but just then the stage opens up the orchestra rises on a mechanical platform the lights come on and the walls and the very edges of even the room disappear all is light and gold and everyone rises as one and is swept away : so so yes so so far away I witnessed all that on an oriental stage in my passage and then I re-opened the book to where all the words were gone and missing and someone had scribbled in place instead a large handwritten broken word 'LARA' with no meaning and I never did understand any of that what it meant or why.
There are so many things I never really wanted but ended up with anyway – but that’s probably the way it is with things like that and it all reminds me of the guy buying two-by-fours in the lumber yard while figuring that with a little planning and some few more purchases of wood he’ll soon have that entire extension to his house completed and yet three months before he wasn’t even sure which end of a hammer was used to hit which size of a nail and nevertheless in just a little time it’s all about finished and over and he’s got no clue what he just did but dangling so high like that over a precipice can make anyone nervous and the only quote really worth uttering is ‘que se rompe la cuerda’ which actually means ‘let the rope break’ by which is MEANT ‘please help me by letting this cruel illusion end and let me see really what it is I have done and what it is that I am walking carefully over (two tiny feet on a thin thin rope) and before I say help let me NOT lose all hope – for letting this end will at least bring me to my senses’ - and it’s like that living this life (for the crap piles up the tasks grow higher and the rivers and bridges are soon either too high or too low for any real passage) but I have fragmented my life so as to see it in pieces and now it appears as if every few days I review BEFORE THEY HAPPEN the things which will occur the next day : I see spiders in their web – centered in the hot Summer’s end and two days later I see the very same spider (illustrated and all) in an article about spiders and their webs in this year’s wet warm season YET I see this life as a work in progress (as in Philip Larkin’s memorable phrase) – ‘smaller and clearer as the years go by’.
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And do then why are you running like a madman past five hundred things I see the eye and the eye is watching and all of this life is nothing but a moment a sieve something leaking high and mighty on down from above - which is only a direction not a time and place - and all the circumstantial evidence leads only to the scrim of the stage : the one dark spot where the ladies linger dressing in their stage robes and commingling with the oasis and the workmen who make the scenery they are about as well and talking to one another sitting and grimacing the twisted faces of the demented the declined the lost and they flail about as well as anyone and the men with scripts are walking onto the scene but just then the stage opens up the orchestra rises on a mechanical platform the lights come on and the walls and the very edges of even the room disappear all is light and gold and everyone rises as one and is swept away : so so yes so so far away I witnessed all that on an oriental stage in my passage and then I re-opened the book to where all the words were gone and missing and someone had scribbled in place instead a large handwritten broken word 'LARA' with no meaning and I never did understand any of that what it meant or why.
posted by gary j. introne @ 6:36 AM
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