The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

November 14, 2011

memoria hd

probably no one will watch these, large files reduced from hd, final
versions of windmills and walkthroughs. the memorial is in the placing
of them. the memorial is in the waiting and uploading and the thinking
of the past through the future already collapsed. these are the last
views. there are the final times. i could not have written without the
vestige, punctum, of a home. i needed a place to stand. i can't stand
in new york. i can't stand in atlanta, fukuoka, halifax, los angeles,
hobart, perth and nottingham. unable to stand i write _diacritically,_
i place the vowels against the hardness of insistent letters, the
_other._ the _other_ murmurs the value and addressing of the world. i
could not have this world, i had this world. nothing is remarked and
nothing gathers the shadow around the _back_ of the legs, comforts and
cuddles and mute or mewling sounds, but the house, it's as if the
house remembers, as if the house, grown older before our own demise,
speaks, and through the misery of the wind and electrical illumination
of the last presence, breathes ever so slowly across the rapture of
dreams, where i am, where i await death. i woke up in night's middle,
thinking, _i am the next to go,_ and the darkness swallowed me, and i
could not, and never have, breathed. and so many things, already in
flight, seeking, 'and through their misery, the breath of the last
presence' ...

*//* what will come

will not be announced, will not be
or will be but none of it, none of space,
or will have none of time, no memory or notch,
no space of annihilation, no unsigning,
unraveling, no informing, no information,
none of emptiness, no shrug of memory,
no shrug,

we know that now, we bear that, temporal
distance to the future gone, in
retrograde like bad planets faking moving
slowly, un-thereing, inconceivable but no
languor, lassitude, no nothingness, nothing
of light, soundless, no gathering, no
repleasing, no ending, no, none of
beginning, so we're a moment now, none,
now, so we're here, crawlings, everything's
on the way, off time, off the clock,
things dropping, what might transform
simile into absence *//*

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