ampersand : space: artists: works of art: writers : words: ampersand: space: artists: works of art: writers: words : Spieces of Spaces " Space melts like sand running through one´s fingers. Time bears it away and leaves me only shapeless shreds : To write: to try to meticulously retain something, to cause something to survive; to wrest a few precise scraps from the void as it grows, to leave somewhere a furrow, a trace, a mark or a few signs. " Georges Perec

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

JANUARY: word: JENNIFER PILCH art : JENNIFER STARKWEATHER




THERE AND BACK AGAIN


Tracing the skin on an oblique plot, slowly the
Field of memory pops. Even the shadowed and
Veiled, windows on the map. And yellow
Aspen mandalas, spinning tops to orient us?
The bluff, microscopic, lumbering across a
Sample plate? Through receding puddle rings
Over alien mud shingles, you return to the
Daily fix: the tear, the puncture, the cover-up
The crop. Marks adorn and bind us to the picture
Are we journeying back or anchored toward?
Snowflakes falling in a silent story? Constellations
Groping through murky atmosphere? A tree's
Silhouette each year slightly changeable? A
Stranger form from barely escaping, more
Beautiful the light


JENNIFER PILCH,2006

2 comments:

EL said...

A photo of your sister allegedly; unfocused close-up of a banana actually, should have sent a warning of what your poems of the future would present.

Curiouser & curiouser!

Alex Hirsch said...

Alex Hirsch Here. I know Jenny Pilch. She's cool.