Revisiting the Bell Jar
Posted on May 8th, 2008
by
Ron
My education lies there
on the table, a cooked
ham. I will eat it slowly.
Maybe over the course
of several days. Then
it will be gone. "Now
what?", I say to me.
The landscape I will
remember included a
ham and then it didn't.
Out there on the empty
plate lies the loss. But
then I feel sleighted
enough that I think
that memory belongs in
here. Where? In this pup
tent with my flashlight,
pop, and comic books.
Where? In this card
board box that once
held a refrigerator. Now
I have cut a window
into the blue green rest.
But all around me in the
dark I breathe my
memories, scooping and
packing them onto me-
Wet mud. When they dry
I will come out through the
side flap into the bright
colored world, squinting,
wearing the earth.
on the table, a cooked
ham. I will eat it slowly.
Maybe over the course
of several days. Then
it will be gone. "Now
what?", I say to me.
The landscape I will
remember included a
ham and then it didn't.
Out there on the empty
plate lies the loss. But
then I feel sleighted
enough that I think
that memory belongs in
here. Where? In this pup
tent with my flashlight,
pop, and comic books.
Where? In this card
board box that once
held a refrigerator. Now
I have cut a window
into the blue green rest.
But all around me in the
dark I breathe my
memories, scooping and
packing them onto me-
Wet mud. When they dry
I will come out through the
side flap into the bright
colored world, squinting,
wearing the earth.
Tagged with: perception, memory

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And it is not yet enough to have memories…
I'm reminded of the Rilke quote you posted months ago, which has stayed with me. For this is what you've achieved. And reading you I also feel coated in the warm mud of your more-than-memory. Gorgeous. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for your kind impressions.
I like this. I don't know exactly what it elicits in me, but I like it very moch. Thanks Ron.
Thanks kcidybom.