Saturday, March 08, 2008

My true nature is happenstance. My books are disorderly they crowd each other on the bed, shelves. I put tools in the pen drawers and candles with the dishes. I see beauty in the chaos of it all sometimes, the finding of things where you least expect and I believe all the objects talk amongst themselves. Because I have no expectations, the screwdriver fondles a spoon and Hemingway lies on top of Dr. Seuss.

I want you to understand everything is chaos, then underneath that pattern, predictability but those two things: chaos, order—fuck each other long into the night, trying to understand who will stay, who will leave. And no, love is not part of this Ménage á trois who sits in a chair. Love is the air, the blood—the very thing which causes order and chaos to move, to breathe and because of that very nature—love is indeed, trite.

Chaos and order pay her no heed.


Anonymous said...

yes. yes. yes.

Anonymous said...

I hope you begin a poem with "my true nature is happenstance" - it's a gorgeous opening.

LoveandSalt said...

This is gorgeous. Aphrodite is the transformative goddess isn't she--she always likes to play both sides--definitely at home with chaos-and then she gets all fucky with it. Yum. There has been enough winter by god.
I saw your comment on Suzanne's blog about making mosaics with broken dishes. That sounds like such fun! Do I get to PERSONALLY break the dishes? What can I use--I mean can I go to the recycling center and the thrift store and pick up all the world's lost coffee cups and mismatched socks I mean saucers? Will you put up a post on your blog about this? With pictures maybe? I was brokenhearted when I broke my chicken wine jug but I have saved it in all its colorful glory so I have a start...
And while you're at it, how DOES someone make a life size elephant?