Collaboration

Mesa Memo

1.
Re structures --
the horizon and its lack
of cluttery maples,
turquoise too.
Structure and turquoise.
A color with vivid gloss
like that door in an adobe gate
beat up trucks,
the blue car in a driveway's shadow.
An abandoned house.
And everywhere turquoise.

2.
Yesterday's weather moved
in strokes of rain over the high desert.
Blue-gray clouds flung the mesa
across the sky. The Chama
glowed muddy red and brown.
I'd forgotten about these colors.

3.
I see it: sight line
of the same old same old
you know -- it's always trees, bird
breakfast or collage:
to make a blue door
from an old sock is the conundrum.

4.
Off to find a river rock
maybe a mesa to take home
though they'll charge extra
in baggage, there won't be room
in the overhead bins
-- pack it in with other trinkets
adobe red, Chaco Canyon
petroglyph,
swimming in Abiqui


This poem and collage exist partly because Dorothee
Lang, editor of the BluePrintReview, asked that I
send her some of the writings posted during my
trip to New Mexico. So I fiddled and she collaged
and the result can be read here and at just a moment.
Check it out. Thanks Dorothee!

Here

Stopped by the farm to pick up tomatoes -- the last of the season probably.
The place teemed with apple-picking families. The stand was filled with
'mums and I could smell the home made donuts. Fall is here. Leaves
are turning. It's my favorite time, October especially. I think
I've finally left summer behind, though for some reason it
took longer than usual to relinquish it. I'd still like one more sea
swim. I'm rushing through Frida Kahlo's diary (thanks Rebecca) so
that I can read it again. Amazing sketches, doodles, words, blots of
ink. Then onto other books. And to watching the fall climb
out of the skin of summer, shedding all that green.

Beauties

from my friend Alexandra's trees

Peach

BY JENNIFER TONGE

Come here’s

a peach he said

and held it out just far

enough to reach beyond his lap

and off-

ered me

a room the one

room left he said in all

of Thessaloniki that night

packed with

traders

The peach was lush

I hadn’t slept for days

it was like velvet lips a lamp

he smiled

patted

the bed for me

I knew it was in fact

the only room the only bed

The peach

trembled

and he said Come

nodding to make me

agree I wanted the peach and

the bed

he said

to take it see

how nice it was and I

thought how I could take it ginger-

ly my

finger-

tips only touch-

ing only it Not in

or out I stayed in the doorway

watching

a fly

He stroked the peach

and asked where I was from

I said the States he smiled and asked

how long

I’d stay

The fly had found

the peach I said I’d leave

for Turkey in the morning I

wanted

so much

to sleep and on

a bed I thought of all

the ways to say that word

and that

they must

have gradient

meanings He asked me did

I want the peach and I said sure

and took

it from

his hand He asked

then if I’d take the room

It costs too much I said and turned

to go

He said

to stay a while

and we could talk The sun

was going down I said no thanks

I’d head

out on

the late train but

could I still have the peach

and what else could he say to that

but yes

Birds

Birds on the Wires from Jarbas Agnelli on Vimeo,

who writes:

Reading a newspaper, I saw a picture of birds on the electric wires. I cut out the photo and decided to make a song, using the exact location of the birds as notes (no Photoshop edit). I knew it wasn't the most original idea in the universe. I was just curious to hear what melody the birds were creating.

Here I've posted a short video made with the photo, the music and the score (composed by the birds).

PS: thanks to Kelli for posting this...I'm passing it on from her blog.