Deprecated: Function set_magic_quotes_runtime() is deprecated in /home/mosconi/areasneaks.com/textpattern/lib/txplib_db.php on line 14
Area Sneaks: K. Lorraine Graham

K. Lorraine Graham

from See it Everywhere


having had it several times the sunheat on my
right shoulder and forearm being designed &
grilled there’s a courtyard and parrots in the design district
wrought iron natural oddities of nature marketing find something
to tie the bike to to sit and eat in frontlong garden shade
and doorknobs to go

~

lizards not bats no adults
private school students and
people going north

~

swooning—not going to the UN but
never believed anything could be saved still
love seems a good idea: “God willing
you will find a wife” g-d willing in English

smile officers do and strip club bouncers do

nearly no one going is

~

polluted lagoons are pretty egrets don’t avoid them

~

stuckout limb & a complicated telephone poll series cut off
what can I do / why go home? in my body are biles—yours, too
track by the track and fences self in everyone

~

“the new wheels are about an 18th of an inch too long and the little snappy rings don’t work”

“And I don’t really need the top hats.”

~

something is slow to assess what the—something about
inbetween and among that doesn’t account
there’s backbend eat review fix file and fillout especially
one says to one we are (are we?) negative often and
Houseboats. Farms. Lofts. Groves.

~

I lack content.

“What about point of view in Moby Dick?”

I cannot print labels correctly.

People come through the weapons testing zone.

My body adjusts and must and this is not a blessing. Everything that happens is not a blessing to others or to me.

~

“It takes spiritual discipline to get up at 3 in the morning,” he says, “I know.” Lean in. I want to be obvious: Warhol, desensitization, I was gasping for contact. I miss the fear of being attacked by people I love. Shared context but we blow it. A runner passes me running. Says, “are we there yet?”

~

You will die but not before we see you naked.

~

Town squares & recent hauntings. The imperial valley is looking forward to a temperature of a hundred and one. One day the damn blew up—again we blew it up and we want you and them to come to us.

~

It’s the getting out of the house that helped
not the Wal-Mart. I mean it wasn’t that specific.
It was the getting away from abuse that helped,
not the things—I like my neighbors but there is nothing to say.

~

Flip flops in the jungle, comfortable anywhere but no good for leeches—it rained and the river was brown and there was mud and on the road the road was mud and the river went over the road—we walked or drove a white pickup truck—it was fun—the main character had so much fun and was so happy about the following: looking for rocks with her father, standing in the sun until the mud all over her body was dry.

~

visit because

~

militated improvident trips to the grocery storetetchy car tripsa charry attempt to invite a new friend to dinner alone in the mountains under roofs sough with rain and so onrain as if it were linked together in a seriesan order of things
it’s a good idea to have your characters talk to other people

~

can’t imagine anything except jumping into a pool of edible packing peanuts or
rectangular styrofoam chunks in shakes of grey and blue

~

When I can’t write I think of chickens. I think, “I can’t imagine not sharing my life with this machine.”

~

There are noonday traffic jams all over the world and my friends are breaking fast with dates. I wore a shirt today that is cut too low for teaching. Remember the names of the tragic students first. We visited the museum and saw all the taxedermied animals.

~

organized wife dinner party carpet cleaner car seat hardwood car shower brunch with friends phone calls money Persian carpet dusting

~

try to get us off the street during the end of the world
off it people are exchanging bodies on purpose
there are people saving other people and exchanging bodies
there’s a brief attempt at reggae music & people must find
a way to do things or all will be lostthings actions
movement glueall of it in the meantimecreate
sustainable industries and products other than soap and coffee
the heart deciphers futuristic pictographs that are more complex
than pictographsthe fast food is appealing as long as it is abstract

Say: “This is concrete.” Hold up a magenta dry-erase marker.
“If I threw it at you, you could catch it.”

~

The heat is off in a gorgeous loft in Istanbul and we are there together. Other people are. It is important that the people like each other.

~

Then, we walked through the wedding party in our bathing suits.

~

After practicing asceticism we practiced asceticismmade verselooked at the moon and the stars and the dirtwe did not ignore water but we looked at other things first

We are like angels, kind of. But we die. And eat. Also, we sometimes marry and have children. Perhaps you imagine us as resentful older sisters and brothers. Perhaps we are angry for legitimate reasons—it’s important to imagine a time when we were all working together cooperatively to churn the cosmic ocean and produce the Elixir of Immortality, I suppose. Or else we can concentrate on the remote possibility of being reborn as a saint.

~

Then we’d have to think clearly: I now understand why abrupt departures in the midst of conversation are detrimental to conversation.

~

Going to the grocery store to buy salty yogurt drink and dates to break the day’s fast, a grocery store at the top of a mountain in the middle of the jungle on a Thursday afternoon, nearly impossible to describe precisely as I am in a kind of desert now. A likely place for dates. To go from desert to jungle I will need a lot of water, millennia, and continental shifts. Also, I will need money and time off.

I can imagine an oasis but not with much detail: water, a spring, a wadi and some date trees, an unruly camel who breaks away from a caravan to chase me out of the oasis. I look back and see the camel’s neck stretching out. It bites me on the shoulder, leaving a camel-bite shaped blue and purple bruise which is now yellow and brown.

So I’m back in the desert imagining airplanes. One comes but does not land. Instead, women and men dressed in purple robes parachute out of the plane and run towards the oasis. The ill-humored camel at the threshold bites a few and I want to return to the oasis to find them so that we may sit under date palms with our feet in the wadi and compare camel-bite bruises.

It rains and the wadi floods and I paddle down it in a canoe, listening to operas on a waterproof gramophone. On the way to the ocean I pick up several women and men dressed in purple robes. One woman also has a camel bite and we talk about what that’s like. The initial shock, how we didn’t know camels could run so fast or bite so hard.

Because there are no stars it is night and there is no rain; we’ve reached the ocean and all the other women and men are gone except for the other woman with the camel bite. We won’t make it across the ocean and we don’t know where the nearest jungle is. We throw the gramophone overboard and stay close to shore. A reef forms around the gramophone and we make assumptions.

I put my right hand in the water and am stung by a jellyfish. My hand swells to two-and-a-half times its size and I weep and weep. My companion says “hush hush.”

Ea shows up and the water boils. Or maybe Tiamat comes—I’d rather a goddess than a god in this story, but she’s usually watery and depersonalized, or else she’s a bloated dragon. And anyway, one of her grandchildren stood upon her hinder parts, smashed her head in with a club, cut open her veins, and then had the north wind carry away her blood to secret places. So Tiamat can’t come and I don’t trust her children, much, except perhaps for Ea with his love of beer and penchant for incestuous affairs. Perhaps we should stop telling each other about ourselves.

First time goes and then our sense of it. Landscapes shift but look the same, transient scapes and disappearances. An impossible unduality not in but is, where burial and banishment are a knack for death, entertainment, and storytelling—I kept throwing the beetle away from my bag, or the ladybug away from the screen. Even if we are here for some kind of visionary experience, prefabricated cities will appear. There is no border or gate to guard, no bridge, no leaving to follow the voice of your lover, no never coming home.

First doubt comes and then our sense of it. An inability to bow before kings, the ability to lead armies and argue over how to rank elements of which we are made. An arbitrary request. “Get thee out of it,” we might say. We might plead for clemency; wish to avoid being cast anywhere. Speak of me and I will know you are speaking of me, the sense of self before framework. The story is this: We went up then down. Or else we just went.