Excerpt from Untitled poem about a red box
Untitled poem about a red box s a book-length poem about a handcrafted red box the size of a jewelry or takeout box on view in a small, dark, gallery-like space. On the surface of the box are embroidered objects that resemble butterflies or flowers; a poem threads its way in between these decorations. The viewers (a "we" comprising the narrator and readers) are given to understand that the poem, mysteriously, both is on and is the box, and that the poem is about death. Hanging above the red box there appear to be a series of similar boxes in other colors.
This excerpt follows the opening pages of the manuscript, ending with: And what do / the words say.
To close inread each word
aloud string
them together in
lines find out
what can be
learned this can
be done yet not
retained through
no fault can
words have faults
of the words
squeezing in
uneven cursive
among butterflies
that seem to grow
petals in flight
To read to
attempt to read
the poem is
done then
as a poet wrote
undone the
words invite
and refuse we
might ask can
words invite and
refuse us in
our wanting
Is this a fairy tale
we have found
ourselves in
are we the advancing
lover a kiss to
bestow fairy
tale cast as
gallery display
must a visitor
kiss the object
awake does
the visitor
believe the poem
sleeps and waits
does the visitor
possess can a
kiss be possessed
the kiss that will
wake the poem
will the poem
rise up grateful
and sure
A fairy tale tells
what can’t
happen we
may be in
one but no
closer to keeping
the words we
see stitches
cerulean and lilac
dandelion peach
and pine thread
through carmine or
is it hibiscus
rhubarb shiraz
savor sutures
puncturing cloth
to form a script
looping among
petals that long
we might say to
fly wings that
take we may
say perverse
pleasure in being
mistaken for
petals
But can’t keep
the words they
refuse we
may say to
be possessed
the beloved if
this is a fairy tale
posing as exhibit
rises up to meet
the visitor’s lips
and falls back
into deepest slumber
leaving them
alone and
bewildered
So goes the
tale but what
if gaze is
greedy kiss
insists
We may step
back circle the
box the given
poem is on and
is the box
is here and other
boxes hover each
made by hand to
fail to meet
machine perfection
calling to mind
containers for what’s
left from a meal
out or adornment
worn on occasion
padding between
cardboard and
cloth visible
only as soft
bulge is it pillow
or pincushion
subcutaneous or
substrate punctured
along with cloth
by needle passing
thread to bolster
construction
This object made
to last or is it
to degrade thread
and cardboard
glue and cotton
this box the
hue of butcher’s
broom elderberry
chokecherry or is
it bittersweet this
box that is a
poem this poem
that also is
or is on a box
and is it
is or are
they the other
boxpoems in
the series poem-
boxes contained
by and containing
a dark quiet
This object
designed by
whom to
hold gem or
sustenance
Is the dark
quiet then the
absence of these
a promise broken
or is it promise
fulfilled or is
it at all
promise
The dark quiet
pervades we may
say the inside
and outside does
all this space
obliterate or
withhold
does it yield
as in yield up
to the visitor and
what may be
this nourishment
these gems
yielded
Or does this
dark quiet can
we say ask
us to yield and
yield what
The box and
companion boxes’
walls cleave the
dark assert
we may say form
a series of
objects on display
the red one
illumined the
row of others
hovers hovers
rather in mind’s
eye
We return
and return to
words weaving
and squeezing
among the gestures
in color of flight
and flower read
words we can’t
capture despite
desire why
are we in a
fairy tale or is
this a dream
we believe we’ll
remember the
words the
poem fades
is the fault is
there fault
is it ours
Or no fault in
sight a
song or chant
some psalm-
like incantation
looped and lofted
into ears at
bedtime or
sitting on a
bench squeezed
among elders we
inhaled wafting
aromatones
flavorhues
lemon and pumpkin
sage and jacaranda
cornflower cerise
touched colorobjects
sand amaranth
lupine moss
and autumn maple
fluttered feather
of kingfisher
the psalm or
song we may
sing kissed
us we yielded
became the
song or may
we say the
poem so nothing
to remember
To fill the
box with a
body even
tiny no
or adornments
to store in
it mementos
or receipts no
but might run
finger over
surface warp
and weave of
serviceable cloth
gently press
cotton batting
circle eye from
angles squint
at dangling
row of other
colors wonder
What is
listening what
listens what
is listened
Is within
without
with with-
out
What threads
color of sea and
fruit stone
and tree
Is threaded
what is
thread
Cloth thin
pad flimsy
board been
pierced must
Be must
have been
will