Open, open, open

4/10/2021 Where does that pre-memetic meme come from?

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“Everywhere you look, there is a faint cheering, ‘Open, open, open!’ the best ode to Spring.”
“Today, I realized how perfect the koan ‘How do you get out of a stone grave that is locked from the outside?’ is and how it is the same as ‘Roll away the stone,’ perfect for this season. And then I thought about it, and it was gone.”
“Not much to say after this. O, right, right, today’s poem”
I don’t like this title
Con/Jur/d, 4/10/2021

When I started this poem,
my brain was teeming,
hungry ghosts and language
parasites,

although I wrote,
“How shocking the daffodil’s
yellow,” I didn’t mean it. Nor
did I mean,

“The boundaries
of of the vast, Unknown Country.”
The place those surfaces come
from too shallow.

If I was to dip,
the toe of my shoe in the pond
where we retain those images,
just like,

the woman
who walked by my window,
fixing her hair walks__________________out
of frame,

shimmers, ripples and is gone
better to pull from here, with
You. See? What would you
name it?

That’s better.

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Later y’all,

Con/Jur/d, 4/10/2021

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