Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Three Tanka

Tonight Brendan mentions he wanted to play a game of dominoes with the paper maché moon we have on his top bookshelf: I held the bearded half-circle crescent adjusting the board around B.’s moves, his instinctual matching skills with color and numbers.

236 / he plays dominos with the crescent moon— bone tiles spread out evenly on the table between them— magnolia buds twist outside—
237/ a solid maché moon in my lap, as night descends— bones on the table shuffled between players— the moon laughs at my weak hand
238/ pokerfaced, the moon leans close to his new hand of dominoes, thinking over his meager options— sixteen swifts tongue the night sky

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