Okay — Note in a Bottle 12

The Sun & Moon House in Beacon Hill, Seattle

Okay,

It’s been a while since I’ve written a field notes entry and summer is over. I’ve been practicing listening and eavesdropping.

all done not by us or for us but with us and within the body

Today I read a piece about James Schuyler rummaging through the trash and assembling it into his poems: In “Freely Espousing: James Schuyler, Surveillance Poetry, and the Queer Otic,” Robert Morris Levine wrote about Schuyler’s practice of gleaning information from the world around him to compost into poetry, how his “waste fetish” was expressed in a collage-like fashion, and how his “use of the overheard” creates radical queer connection in the face of surveillance.

It might give us — what? — some flowers soon?

A writer I work with posted a picture of a praying mantis in our Slack channel, which reminded me of Schuyler’s poem “September.” A few weeks ago I read the pome on Instagram and someone commented, “Damn he’s cute..he gay?” Today, I googled “james schuyler gay” and found Robert Morris Levine’s article, which mentions the poem “What is Poetry” by John Ashbery, which I saw on Twitter a few days ago. I watched the Bling Ring documentary because someone else posted about it. Lately, I haven’t been looking for anything in particular but allowing the internet and universe to present whatever strange connections it will to me as I look into the window of my computer screen.

there was a sliding door that opened

I saw a picture of a friend I have been avoiding, living a version of their dream that surely brought them joy — I’m so glad for them. I wished to reach out to them but couldn’t bring myself to, instead thought about small luxuries and how we can all appreciate the joy we feel in the everyday. On the bus to Tacoma, I read “John Ashbery: They Knew What They Wanted: Collages and Poems” and ate salted peanuts. The weather was gorgeous. In the backyard grass Riley practiced handstands and Cass painted. I wrote a pantoum from a Creation Island prompt using lines from “Impermeable” and “He” by Ashbery.

If you decide he is important it will get you nowhere

The marble countertop cracked
rose quartz bathroom sink,
teeth in my obsidian armature
glistening saliva glinting peridot.

Rose quartz bathroom sink
to rinse my bloody gums
glistening saliva glinting peridot.
I was asked, are you sure?

To rinse my bloody gums
I chipped the diamonds.
I was asked, are you sure?
Ladle thy grief selenite:

I chipped the diamonds.
The marble countertop cracked.
Ladle thy grief selenite
teeth in my obsidian armature.

I’ve unfortunately already decided, but I think it’s okay to be nowhere for now.

Until next time,

Joe

P.S. I co-curated an issue of the digital zine Stone Pacific with my friend Sami! Check out Issue 8.