The Bones, for my mother

[Alan Sondheim]

The Bones, for my mother



people's perception of the world and their relationships in general. Many

the residue of organism, that something remains of interested after

language and Oedipus (wihtout spatial signification), in the sense that


## On the 9th, we went to the Back Mountain Library Auction.
## On Sept 18th, Evelyn's 80th b-day. We went to PA 1 pm.
## On October 5, Evelyn had surgery.
## March 11, go to PA @ 3:15 pm.


and and brocades, and a long way back ,,



cancers spread like pools of artificial life across desperate thought
they are dying with scans and with probes
your body is mined and saturated; your body is a hole; your body is mine;
the new computer will remain crying in the store in the new box.
for an instant before the darkness: our illuminations.



When the thing becomes a catheter




the walk before the last walk
the walk after the last walk
the shadow of a man near a three o'clock store





don't want to lay it on anyone else, I just want to be understood. I
Now at least I can say how I feel. Before I could never talk to anyone.



   she says father oh father they're gaining upon us
   she's screaming father i'm dying father they're gaining
   she's screaming and no one can see or can save her
   in the murmuring forest no girl and no father





waves of cancer testing other newer waters, new metastases, solitons and





the pages, yours, letters swollen, loving your mouth.
letters survive and murmur and couple and mourn.
letters, leave us.



they move cleanly, screaming network! network!




i want to scratch and claw my face
i am the purest of the meek
behind this world and any other




moorings
the balance of water and water
balance of death and water
waters mooring waters




i do fall into the depths of the waters
& there i do bind this wayward drowning angel








hey, where are you going?
ho, why are you leaving us?





Meaning is all there is.





there is a boy near the houses the things and he is a boy
the houses are not in the lake
it is a nice house and a nice dog and a nice cat
there is a moon in the sky behind the house
this is a nice month and it is november


nothing is ever in silence, nothing in void



this is not the text but the bones of the text
                    (how does it feel to want \?)
                  (why should i \?)
this is not the text but the bones of the text
         '((can you elaborate on that and look at me \?)
i say "this is not the text but the bones of the text"
you tell me "this is the text that is open for you alone"



(dor-put-meaning stab 'death)
(dor-put-meaning die 'death)


& layers in layers, layers tilted, askew in relation to layers,


this is the start of the flower of the text the beautiful flower
that was the start of the flower of the text the beautiful flower




sign and each and every sign returns to that sign and if there is not one



still yet in the morning and afternoon, that the knowledge of logic is




don't run up, don't approach!
don't stay in me!





the whales are dying, the whales are dying



in a bag twisted and tied at two ends
every little beat of my heart
that the every third beat went from one to the other
every little beat of my heart


the case/ as if i were reconfigured/ buried in carpet/ thick/ there/s

the valley . just before the sun rose burning in the west . in the heat of





  that there is only one death; that this death has no number;
that there is only one passage, one text, one whisper;
  that writing is of the suppurated body; that skin is wound;




Let death be quick for those concerned with antiquity and adjectives.
Our motto is release the records and release the librarians.





you can't forget its name ^ it hasn't any


ginelle bringing the flowers, sprigs of holly, tulips, to
ginni, running in the distance near the mountain shadow?


_