Monday, October 29, 2007

Along a thin leading edge

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The Ordering Of How We
Move In Time And Space


You walk down the street countless times, unaware
of the music as you do, the subtle hitches in balance
that push and spread measures of incidental rhythmicity,
the hasty tumble into the raw future along a thin leading
edge we mindlessly set cadence to and call presence.

Some might call this dance, but we will call it simply walking
in our skin because this will serve a less formal god where
the subordinance of matter pivoting in the sleeve of what
motion has assigned to be a heart might congeal more essential,
less immersed, in the ascribed posaics of a lesser poet.

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So you make the corner and stop. To round it with an
arc of impetuous grace or cross it and curry the scent
of what chaos might attend your table in an aberrant cycle
or a late automobile, a stranger in the middle of the walk
whose face is familiar as you both stop against the red
that changes nothing but a temporal rite of passage to
give the truer nature of intersection its rightful meaning.

Continue now as one or two, it hardly matters, as there
are breaking moments to escort quickly into the past
where coffee and mornings lost to recollection are
subsumed by others in the sudden zuzz of a low-passing
plane, or the pas de deux of hunger as a coyote dances
in a field for a morsel of mouse to make her milk.

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Catch yourself in shop glass and come to. Distortion
brings everything inside to order. Listen. Resume.
Ask yourself if you heard it, if what you might have
seen has reason to bring your stride to pieces to be
gathered or left where they lay. This matters and if you
think it doesn’t, then walk to Asia or until it does. How
we move in time and space is nothing if not everything.

Joseph Gallo
October 28, 2007


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