Thai Farmer Four Hands – July 6, 2010

Posted: July 7, 2010 in Samples of My Writing

Here is the final poem in the first section of Partake which is now available for order from and in bookstores this fall. Or can be ordered from me via email.

Here is my Reading of this poem:

Thai Farmer Four Hands

When we stop breathing
We become not water, rock or air
But balled up and shapeless time
Not bottled by self
Not contained in any one body
But like rice paper that flutters in the wind
Before it is ripped to shreds
Like a jackfish mouths
The surface of a lake
And how light catches a tree
Or a flat bit of rock
All that a boundary
And fits to the word everlasting
To the word flow
To the Thai Farmer Four Hands massage
All of us
Just some fuel
The wind a gasp or a sigh
Just as the streets of Babylon are gone
So is my brother
No thunder no rain
But still a deluge
No shadow no sound
The body contains only the self
And yet that ripe thing
Is the drive into the center
Pulling with it all the smash of stars
All of it right
Back to the swishing sound
That is always there
The white noise
No one can ever turn off.


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