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B E L L E   G I R O N D A               from  H i G H   W A T E R M A R K   S A L O [O] N  volume 1 number 4

Solstice
for Michael Day

December slide and
the editor wants
all to know
Day is missing

July revives
Shanghai envoi
translation
slick and warm
from the body
nesting
uneasy

coal stain teeth from the fire
sky snap at the millennial
with their 19th

news of disappearance greeted
with fear and envy
how
do you pull that
off?
can it happen to me?

No, the contemporary numbers
cling to your clothes

dark stretches towards darkness
by the time
Word is scratched in the shrinking pool

one lost will resurface
or another found
never
to have existed.

 

GIRONDA'S Artistic Statement from I's and Eyes (55 Eyes)

 

I think of poetry as a form of knowledge as well as a method of “knowledge laundering,” a term for which I thank Bill Marsh. * I recently read Joan Didion writing, “Was it only by dreaming or writing that I could find out what I thought?” * I was a student of Don Byrd who exhorted us, ‘Poets, what do you know?” and who began his Poetics of the Common Knowledge pointing to a “fact of composition” he credits to Pascal: ‘the last thing one discovers when writing a work is what one should put first.” * I am so enamored by this process that I have a hard time stopping it long enough to stem the flow of any one poem, or set of. * So, I am doubly grateful to Lori Anderson Moseman, who will sandbag these poems, this time, for this salo(o)n.* She is also one of my favorite poets, greatest influences and is among my most trusted readers. * My friend and former collaborator Chris Funkhouser said, “Collaboration is my only religion.” (I think I dreamed he said that.)* While the work in this book, my poems and Sheila Goloborotko’s art, were created independently, the process of bringing them together for this event, relieved, for me, a creative isolation I didn’t even realize I was inhabiting. * Working with Sheila and Lori on this assembly was all learning, incense and no hair shirt.* When I moved to NYC, almost four years ago, I had to re-imagine all my intellectual expectations and emotional relations with physical and psychic space. * The manuscript Frame Works, from which these poems are drawn, is a result of that process. * I discovered, of course, that I had lived in 22 houses in 44 years (now 23 in 45) and that those concerns were not, in fact, new for me. * The poems finally are a culling from a thematic (what are the demands that space places on information and feeling, and vice versa?), which it seems I visit and revisit in everything I make. * The architectural intelligence of Sheila’s art and the porosity of Lori and Tom’s house and even of their lives, invite a new set of questions.