CANTO 55
Einstein's first wife,
giving her colossal kisses
and tender kisses, a special
relativity, a corpusculence
of kisses
Einstein was a terton, discoverer of mind treasures
& Mileva Maric was his consort
or vise versa
E=MC squared is a mind ter
planted
by great bliss queen, Yeshe Tsogyel
while in her Wrathful Samantabhadri
aspect
Why does a drop of water rise in the
channel of an inserted straw?
Where is gravity?
Nestled in a rose in the middle
of midnight,
breathing, how constant
my love, and tracing your form
in the window's fog.
Moonlight gleamed thru, & though
the living wears down, he finds
a luminous, stubborn joy.
Her favorite things-flowers, fountains
flags & fireworks, but
when he's near her
another f word comes to mind,
the ground begins to sway, his clock
grows horns,
& the whole world is a heavenly display.
Fire is water falling upward.
An old man stutters when he talks.
A girl in pink flutters when she walks.
What is the limit she'll permit?
Fire is water falling upward.
We're playing w/ out a game board.
Both feet off the ground
flying sideways.
A few more tosses, Laura,
& our lives will be salad.
Drank to the dregs their mindhearts
bitches & bastards
as the mind moves on
leaving them behind who meant
dappled sweetness & tar apple
upon apple
to their voracious
errantnesses! Let the hateful causes
step into the limelight.
They are monstrously
unable
in this riptide
where we only live once
where we are only
so much scar tissue.
"Scars & stripes forever"
"Scars make your body more interesting,"
Laura sd, "I have a lot of scars," and I noted
that in fact, she did.
I was not sure, whether or not she was
using the tone of the sarcastic imperative or the heretical imperative.
Absent thee,
from the real brimstone awhile.
Neither serious
nor lyrical be.
-Carl Rakosi
Laura is a historical babe, dude.
If I were suddenly to write her a sonnet, would she listen or would she object? Is she an
objectivist? The best bet would be to call the jail reception area and ask if anyone there would
like a few pet rock poems?
In this story, a man needs a woman, a man needs to fall in love with her, and he needs her not
to be committed to someone else.
Probably won't write much poetry.
Have a shrew for a wife. Lots of little Petrarchs running about. And he would resent her, and
she would turn on him, turn away from him, and he would feel guilty as hell about it because he
still loves her. All this is clear. What else is
he going to do?
All day her name was Mylover, and it was Bloomsday June 14, 1904 when her poem, "My
Special Relativity", appeared, the day she and Francesco went on their first date. Their
conversation turned
decidedly philosophic. Near the Moorish Wall, she confided, "With Platoe in
Aquinasshole, the same extension
which constitutes the nature of a body constitutes the nature of space."
And Francesco replied,
"5foot2/eyes blue/35-22-35
5foot6/legs amour/36-24-37,
6foot3/relativity/42-30-44."
Differential equations that are part
of the ordinary eternal machinery where space is regarded neither as substance, as Newton
maintains, nor as Descartes would have it, as an
adjectival state of extended bodies.
Instead, it's a system of relations, which, as a matter of logic, is the void, a place where words
melt into number and where time is space is matter is energy, timespacematterenergy, a
metaphorical meta-place, that is so absurd that only lovers can find it.
tomorrow
yes (ter) day
to day
"Yesterday is gone forever,
& tomorrow will never come.
The 9th wave is a long time coming.
Destiny in the balance.
No second chance."
See Time that flies and spreads
his hasty wing!
Distance & solitude may be what I need
some monument of peace
that opens into all above-but
clouds foreboding
ruffled by the winds in my life's storm.
I have found heaven below.
