by
© copyright 1994 James McCrary
GRIST On-Line
P.O. Box 20805
Columbus Circle Station
New York, New York 10023
Some of the poems in this collection have been previously published either in book form or in magazines and the author gratefully acknowledges the publishers/editors of the following presses: West of Mass, published by Tansy Books, Lawrence, KS, John Mori tz, Editor; :that:, Peacham, VT, published by Stephan Ellis; First Intensity, Staten Island, NY, published by Lee Chapman and Texture Magazine, published by Susan Nash Smith.
You look and look again...try to see something...through the cold...out there along the horizon...if you have one...it is empty and silent...[like stepping out of the car along that gravel road 20 miles East of Sublette...down off Hiway 54]...the silence...the space...yeh the wind. Here the same...the white paper...the black lines extending across the page...it all adds up...somehow...and I do the best I can with it...I can't stop it...don't want to change it...and in the end try to turn it over...put it up...here...now...you take it...you think it over and let my words blow through you...out there...on that rise...under that sun...in that place...you know where it is...you've been there...don't bullshit me on that one pard...I seen you out the corner of my eye...over there.
Oh shit he said.Not unusual considering the present.
What becomes known does that.
Often times the result is speech.
If it all comes down the results rain.
What is hoped for realized.
Somebody commits suicide.
Not as often as before.
Then it was part of a life.
People "fell" out windows.
People "took" a lot of drugs.
Living dangerously but living.
Something went past quickly.
Remembering nothing is not relief.
Remembering everything is considered bad form.
The sixties?
Not me man, no way.
What was that used to be.
Today things are "stored".
That seems to work.
It is easy to "search".
Memory chips.
Ah...the future claimed...
7/20/91
Whatever we want holds us
the attempt to break free of desire
twice the pleasure...half the pain
that is attractive
whatever we can comes up
the only way outta here
how do we find the exit in the dark
what it comes down to
we want some direction
"keep your eyes open"
what kind of direction is that
always expectation leads around the bend
not direction at all not very clear either
asking for advice like help
overcoming spontaneity
If this turns out to be a sonnet..god help us
7/21/91
New space is a relief
old space too
what comes up beet red
puns suck
Out of this space and then
what a surprise discovered
the only demand continued
the only result drawn
Another one comes along
day that is
hot like this
incredible in their sameness
What right do we have
Whose idea was this anyway
7/23/91
Is it imagination
or does this world really
seem just a bit off today
Perhaps a difficult sleep
is the answer
still one sun up
You see some things that
reflect sameness
and others are not that way
Questions keep up
one certainly doesn't try to
bat them down
What if? Why not?
the only result is again
the only end is running
triplets are just right
until they too run out
7/24/91
If anything come up for sure
passing it around does demand
a closer look and visit for the
hearing and then the size and font
become only too wasted
what does this say
and why doesn't it say it out loud
does any page speak highly
of type
can applying one to another
create some noise
or are the many just two
what come up just belongs
nothing re arranges
what comes up put down
7/25/91
Thinking about out there
the clouds gather
push east and south
to here
where hopefully they will
do what they do
covering both sun and land
with the mass of them.
some electric
some noise
a bit of wet
then move on toward the
easy hills of west missouri
or simply dissipate and
reflect above the kansas river
where the loss is obvious
not much else is t(here)
7/26/91
Under the horizon
a simple tree line
reflects
both heat and a few stray
head
before that a pond
both stark and quiet
which holds a few bass
and endless reflections
to one end the constant windmill
dribbles what is left beneath it
in an ageless attempt
to keep up.
west of course the yellow
turns red and lights up what's
sent from topeka to pollute the edge
standing still or walking
back down the slope
or across the slight valley
called Buck by some
trying again to locate
what it is draws anyone to this place
always looking
always close
the only way here is subtle
and that is not an easy way
to get through
3/10/92
There is a great opening to the north
lack of foliage is the cause
geese heading northeast for some reason
perhaps the river for a spell
there are no hawks
something green is beginning
wheat it seems
the cattle ignore all this
content in their way
the fence seems strong
all the gates are closed
the memories are quick
like the geese
sound before sight
remembering the creek
and an old wood pile
the crops and bales lifted off the field
leaving finally
turning left onto the paved road
behind and over my shoulder
is a trail of dust
left
3/13/92
They are trying these times
without representation
sub or near to it as zero
wind a plus
sun no help unless
already protected
the trees seem inverted
perhaps that is protection
the mirror of soil against horizon
it makes obvious today
the fact of walking about
on the top
rootless and restless
"what is it at the end of the road"
we do desire the curve
to walk around and
somehow caress something
nape to knee is one example
certainly it is the same desire
the discovery of the possible
the unknown and the known
reaction
to finally see what can't be seen
to feel what is familiar
to hope for some further travel
to be
in the end
led somewhere.
3/15/92
The example of field
out and across
down there with the creek bed
curved around the fallow
what can be seen
does the wind accumulate
or simply pass through
continuous in its tail
does it provide for birds
is that a beagle
where is the sun coming from
is this after all
simple recollection
3/18/92
When the will comes
there are no fields left
trees line the banks
upended by the winter
ahead of this view another line of rock
road perhaps or simple lift
somewhere out there
a "how you say" mirage
visiting scenes from over by there
only in mid-day
only in mid-summer
only here on this hill do they visit
"you can see it as clear as day"
hopefully this is a chance
there is nothing to feel
go ahead walk through it
turn around and it is gone
somewhere nothing has changed
as usual this becomes the day
If they stayed together too long it became rather tedious. If they
stuck together it was a joke. Thankfully, the human rarely expands
to reach such humility. However, as it is well published these days,
there is an emotional enlargement which sometimes reaches epic proportion.
Doesn't do much good for them either. Is it love or the microwave?
Just another typical American family. Why not. Does the dog always
rule?
Some say it is all too obvious. Some are too obvious to say anything.
Some obvious. Some too. Or is it two. Of course it is.
Becoming un stuck requires motion. All is that way. The latest info
re chaos doesn't apply. Wellness cults need not apply either.
All in all it is a fine combination. Loving in its splendor.
3/19/92
In the mirror
"objects are..." etc
the road is created
in another past
over the ridge
or lost in a cut
through eroded time (Hawkins said)
which seems to hold somehow
the future yet...
Out here
everything curves
and the hills
are rolled in flint.
5/5/92
Finally the spot hits
another split in the horizon
against a familiar background
the sun appears
as if it belonged
not just emerging
from behind that line
what held it up is attached
some cloud
some shadow
even the trades come on
salt from the gulf
wet enough to stick
comments to one another
provide the only sound
dogs don't seem interested
one continues and is spotted
jogging along the avenue
a bridge
and then the best appear
and they don't seem to mind
exiting and entering
trying to fill in
the space between waves
it is so hot
we let go
we fly
5/4/92
We let go
we fly
there is no place left
directions confuse
the polar surge is less
just because we are above
is no consolation
what is below continues
to revolve
landing is a surprise
where is of no matter
all of which
if maintained
long enough
returns
6/9/92
what a lot of people consider
nothing is really just another way of saying
obviously
just looking doesn't
what is covered becomes forest
green what?
well just the other day
waltzing along the river
minding all the business
worn rocks
trees exploded
green fireworks
(no sense hacking
it grows that fast)
just another way downhill
keeping a distance that is
following the order.
the return is always as expected
revolving in its own way
this spring seems controlled.
one line at a time seems rather pretentious
don't tell me that works
6/22/92
Simply passing is a river
unseen before and after
rising and lowering in an attempt
to get past
what matters seems to be going up
one would think the reverse to be true
probably once was
then of course there was more up than down
now it all comes north
nothing left
they need it and are willing to
remake the road
remembering another time when the river ruled
now is indeed ruled
nailed down
stopped in all ways
nothing left but to look at it
and as the locals do
call it a "lake"
which considering the short view
and width of water
is real enough.
in keokuk there are some folks
who know how to look at a river.
6/23/92
Over all the river seems
to run as always
down they used to say
towards
full of riffs and tiffles
oh come on not that river
way too big
such a concept
as usual there are the bluffs
still an option
the wider view
coming together
a sense of length
or what was
oh for christs sake
quit being so oblique
all you have to do
is look for the signs
6/24/92
Left alone
the old oxbow
like the words
lies flat
waiting for the light to change
and it does
as summer
moves across the middle
as if any lines
added up to anything
and who can follow
what light
on what plain
looking up
or down or into
doesn't seem to catch it at all
what runs by
past what's running along
past as well
no use trying to snag it at all
wasting yer bait
some might say
7/13/92
The figures
from the top
down
in a voluntary
stance is the form
swinging too and for
whatever
destination follows
the first move
hand and knee
lifted off the ground
in an attempt to get
somewhere
or rather movement which
if sustained long enough
encourages some rather
obvious mistakes.
So off they went into the
distance and towards a new
possibility
perhaps choosing to spend the time
or in any event
the night
on the river
but of course that was not
possible
near by or next to or within
shouting distance
in as well
but the only one would have
been one of the many
islands which seemed
to come and go with astounding
regularity
as they continued down and around
freeing themselves from the hold of
even the village
which disappeared
around a bend over
their shoulders.
Easier said than done
for sure
but what was the direction
and why bother traveling at all
what was it out there
and which of any of them
could say anything worth meaning
the river: dumb
the dog: talk about barking
the man: sounds like something made up
so it was with rather
esoteric silence that this
group continued
some because they couldn't not flow down
others just following their nose
and finally
why not
if anything was lost to them
it usually turned up before too long.
So there you are
as narrative that has just about
exhausted any purpose.
On the first night they
(well) two of three
rested
and perhaps the river slowed down as well
since the man and dog
chose a slight bend
for a
sleeping place
which lasted as long
as any
but as for restfulness
well what can one do
on the bank
as it were.
(maybe it was just a walk after all
maybe making it into some kind of journey
is all wrong...)
Perhaps just probing limits
within a time constrain
perhaps an hour
perhaps a day
perhaps...oh for crissakes
always heading in the direction
or odyssey
always back to what
is that some kind of European
gene pile which makes every trip to
the Quickstop a fucking religious pilgrimage.
Well just in case any of this is lost
there has to be a final twist
and since the river just turned over
into another larger way
the two of them left
did the same
and the final rush for the door
came up
there the room and the TV at hand
bed and bored
the hope of whatever adventure
dead and buried
there they could rest
and pick up the wheel....
Oh Vanna!!!
He got up and left
not leaving was an equal opportunity
moving to the street and turning left toward the corner available to him
it was not a clear day
the time of the day was equally un-clear
it was not smoke or lack of sun which created the feeling of denseness
what had been obvious was not now
it didn't hinder either his progress or his decision
in fact there was neither of the above present
leaving was the only decision to be made and once made it was easy to access
the only alternative was waiting to see what made the door operate
could he do that
it sounds more like something he may have created in order to pass the time
recalling that like other amusements the time was already past
passing the threshold in either direction was out
in was not an option
even the dog was open to that choice
out was just another direction
no in in her mind
like it was all territory to her
equal in its importance
and they accepted the obvious company not trotting along
up or down was such a dumb concept to each of them
direction that was
trees of course were round as viewed
the winter cover slight
the river drew them as two small figures approaching or due to the sun in the east one six legged figure
in the end what mattered to all of them was movement
just another river
just another dog walk
add one to another and what you got
flowing against leaning on sitting down
the bank was just that
of course there was a great story taking place at the same time
It was just that kind of day and living in a trailer court on the sound end of the hiway strip leading eventually only to Dodge City is not exactly conducive to divorce or suicide. So when she dropped the plugged in hair dryer into the full bathtub in which she sat after slitting the throats of the 8 year old and the 10 year old it was just the end of another day. End of another fucking day to say the least and that there is probably the key to this text if ever someone wanted to dig around in the sub for it.
(He left her and she responded in the only way she knew...........they say)
(Reference Lawrence Daily Journal World January 18, 1993)
for Pat Nolan
"Fuckin Prozac queen. God I hate em in every way." Of course that could be reactionary. Queens is queens after all. If any one is interested in studying queer behavior in the 90's this is a good place to begin. He waltzed into the room behind her and asked to borrow (a) the 1930's silk slip and (b) her bazooka. It was that kind of relationship and there was little doubt that the dog would suffer the consequences. Standing in the rain-soaked yard barking loudly as if to announce his hunger.
Tough shit old thing. First things first and you ain't even on the list.
-end--
[Break - screen pass: american football. a designed play in which the quarterback drops back and throws ball along a line parallel with line of scrimmage to [usually] a running back who, hopefully, by beginning behind line will find `running room'. for example joe montana drops back five yards looks downfield and throws right to marcus allen who runs along sideline. more often than not this play results in no yards gained. occasionally, it does result in a `big gain'.
12/20/93
here now
in the short night
i write to the earlier sight of
sun light through the screen door
ray broken[?] up by grid
no not ray
isn't it sun wave
and don't i
feel moved by it
not penetrated...
yet what again about
the waves of line
or lines on door
to floor where light
gathers into something visual
or is thrown off mirrored pots
to decorate a space with some thing
but not for long
and then
back to the door
looking for the entrance
of these lines...
how odd is it [?]
that i am
unable to look direct into sun
[i cannot look at mirrors
with me in them either]
of course the lines
of sun
are visible
across the space
and draw me too
the crossing of a cat
and
if i were the sun i would
follow that cat
but of course
we know
who finds the sun
and here it is [!]
again
captured
re drawn
in these lines
but this writing of things
what does the pleasure
amout to
after all of it
is on the line
in serted through these fingers
and re in serted to print that is
and re flected back to eyes
off the page [screen]...
like that door
the tiny grid again
caught up in the real...
what is it at the door
and why of all things
screens...
O O O
O O O O O O O O
____________________________________________50
X X X X X X X X X
X-------------------------------X
(19) (32)
there it ison the TV
the goddamned sun
through a screen [window]
not storm[?] window
to the floor
and the cat
in the pool[?] of it
we are all aligned now
although in no form discovered
until this put up
on screen
which in no way
slows the mind from forming
either a picture or
translation into words...
I come...I go
but the view
left
behind
doesn't seem to change
as much as i ask
walking
turning around quickly
opening blinds or
booting this up
formatting
and of course
simply waiting
to see...i suppose
the final line
gathered
contained
[again]
laid out [down]
and finally
offered out.
His published books are:
His poems have appeared in the following magazines
in recent times: Exquisite Corpse, Caliban, Avec, Loose Gravel,
Rolling Stock, Cottonwood, GRIST On-Line, Coal Creek Review, :that:,
Texture and Borderline.
grist@phantom.com
Go to An Introduction to James McCrary by
John Fowler
Go to West of Mass by James McCrary