Electric Stitches

(June 2023. Daopoem by Aidan and Luca. While we wrote “Asheville” on the opposing page of the birch notebook going one line for one line, we SIMULTANEOUSLY worked on this poem on the other page, going two lines for two lines. Interesting experiment. I have more lines in this one: “Open-earth” “The lip – lives.)” “Fire – skull” “Unlimited-side”. Longtime fans will notice that I brought up the sequoias in the Asheville poem and then the ladybugs from the Sequoia spot in this poem (see: For Mary Oliver). I like the last line best. )

Electric Stitches

Open a tear of lovers between ground and raging gray sky
Electric stitches of friction tie charged heavens to the idea of earth.

It is not quiet here, or free of slime:
it is musky, musty, hot with fish

The lip of the ocean has a lotta nerve serving pearls of such price.
(Currents see the shape of the sea as we perceive the shape of our lives.)
(Ten commandments later, we’re tripped at the tip of disguise.)

Sailing…

Fire—

Thanks for the exploding diamond you’ve smashed into my skull.
We’re traveling now, we’re going— rapids in tense repatterning
and ladybugs pouring in froth.

Unlimited ladybugs spawn up along the stream, endless red novelties born to love
sunlight— and blood’s feeling of warmth on the other side.