LIFE 2
ENRIQUE GARCIA
Audio: Enrique Garcia reads.
life is essentially fleeting and meaningless
the dress is just a dress and can be worn by anyone
if you carve a note into a tablet
it will be written with
more permanence than you could have imagined
yourself writing in pencil.
we talk about babies.
like as if we talk about babies enough a baby will appear,
out of thin air our
progeny transforms itself
into being.
the air hangs heavy and fall shows us its leaves.
the trees show us their weight as they hang,
shedding.
i remember every fall i've ever lived through with the shock of a new smell entering the air.
your car is hot with fucking.
f is for
fucking anyone in sight.
any woman who dares fuck me will feel the full weight of my grief
i keep it light for you mamá
i keep it light.
i am weeping at your dinner table because i tried to keep it light
mamá
i tried to keep it light.
little bag of apples on the countertop
i am wholly and delightfully sad
my sadness sinks into my bowels and i
shit everything this morning.
happy morning baby can you smell that?
can you smell the trees and their sadnesses
hanging over us?
i'm so scared you won't understand me anymore.
i am brave and cowardly,
intermittently,
telling no one
then every one
telling something
a little piece of the story,
wondering how to will them together.
if you could lay me out flat would you fold me together?
would my limbs attach and detach like magic,
like my ligaments were glue instead of bands of gristle and muscle,
like the man who, on accident,
made an adhesive putty instead of
instead of
instead of a stronger sealant.
i let myself go.
i let my body fall out into the winds,
upwards and then
downwards and then
with a gust of wind
upwards again.