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November 7, 2008 The New School, New York City From the Academy Audio Archive

wind is...

Rusty Morrison

 

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Rusty Morrison

by this poet

poem

 

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poem

my father's dying makes stairs of every line of text seeming neither to go up or down
   stop   
that I make the nodding motion to help myself feel I understand stop
in common with his bafflement I find comprehension alone will not suffice stop

that I

poem

like water in water —George Bataille




Eggs, transparent and sometimes red-veined as insect wings, might be hidden
in bark crevices 

or a scatter of tawny leaves.

The distance between one gestation and the next, a pleat of the dress I wear 
carelessly