Being on Something

Who invented the sock? What is plural?
When I drive a car I see other things.
But I keep driving.
There I sit in the car thinking and looking
and it moves along.
I notice other cars with other people in them.
They too make their cars move.
I have no idea what those people in those cars
may be thinking as their cars move.
They could be thinking about a bowling ball's
hole placement, licorice, non-existent places,
hand held maps, a baby, a headache, turning,
Vikings meeting Indians for the first time.
None of these thoughts are real. Most if not
all have nothing to do with moving the car.
How does the space between cars stay safe?
Everywhere people are doing something else
while staying alive in their cars until I see
a bird, stunned, motionless, hunched on the
twin boundary lines. Ahead is a bright color
that makes me stop and look down to the
side, where the quiet bird sits.  His dark
shining eye looks into my eye as my eye
looks into his. I begin to cry, speculating
that I know something, crying because I
definitely know something.  So still it was
because the car is moving now.
I hear myself say the word generous
in the direction of the bird. And then
the thought is coming toward me that
I have no idea what the word fundamental means.
But still the car moves ahead and turns the corner.

His Speech in Broad Daylight

The crest of a hill, a coat of arms,  a wave.

All electricity must cease

All batteries are void.

The box raised me seven inches

above all others present.

My words were arranged

like written instruction.

Many there were reminded of the

exploded diagrams in model kits.

I asked everyone to hold their own faces.

Some were confused by this.

Others slapped themselves.

I felt the glass pitcher inside me tip.

I steadied the stream until

the lightness ebbed.

My voice was just below

the threshold of a scream.

I was baying in broad daylight.

The moon turned away.

And then like so much burnt cork

I was darkened , hidden away from myself,

from audience.

The plan for me was reduction, sidebar.

The species stood up and yawned.

In the distance I could hear

generators start up again.

Clouds disengaged,

batteries smiled at the sun.

My fall was less than a foot.

Exact Science

Our desire for omniscience plays a role in dampening down our capacity to experience. What would a poll-less world look like?  If we believe the certainty of numbers and continue to refine the certainty why would it be necessary to experience the future event the poll is based on?  In our endless need to know we don't take the time for time.  The poll is a cheat against the intensity of emotion that would be coming.

Pollcat

I observed a Pollcat lounging on a tree branch yesterday. His bright coat looked iridescent in the afternoon sun.  Slowly he turned reddish brown as a cloud passed overhead.  He stood, stretched, and then peed on his rear leg.  I said, "Pollcat, why have you peed on your leg?" At the sound of my voice he turned a decidedly bluish gray.
"I'm marking my territory,"  he said,  as he leaped down and scurried away.

Multiple Regression

In my dream my analyst was listening to me describe a dream I said I'd had a week earlier. In my dream's dream  I broke a raw egg on the head of my dog to make him stop barking. Suddenly my analyst interrupted my story because he wanted to tell me something he'd been keeping from me.

"How is this possible?" I asked. "You're not listening, you're talking."

"Fascinating," said my analyst. "I wanted to tell you I know some things about myself."

"Is this still analysis?"  I wondered out loud.

"Where?" said my analyst.

"By the candle there," I said.

"I see."

I was afraid to go on, not knowing what to dream next. But the dream went on ahead anyway, having gathered the past in a weightless satchel. We like to say a "body" of knowledge. This was a "body" of impressions. The dream felt softly elongated, a long dark sleeveless coat, already buttoned.