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gate(less) is a practice, a log, an indulgence, spellwork, meditation, and an invitation to explore and experience the ecstatic adventure of every day. Join us to explore strange new worlds right outside your gate/door

Shoulda been

6/10/2021 No sorries

Con/Jur/d

Jun 10, 2021

**“Instead of composing a gate(less) called DEAD TREES, I wrote a poem”**

All into one space
      after Anne Waldman
Con/Jur/d, 6/10/2021
 
After all, it’s impossible to argue
with poets, prophets
 
When I met Anne Waldman
I could still write,
 
the horizon stretched around
the World, perspective
 
could travel 360 degrees, 40,075 kilometers and 
21 centimeters, back to
 
where we are looking, easy
 
Before everything, everyone
was frozen behind glass
 
Even her poem, How to Write, is the same,
identical, everywhere smooshed
 
we’re compressed flat, in the airport,
in my paper-strewn office, walking down the
stairs,
 
just in time, I freeze
wait for my Soul to return, feet on separate steps
I don’t tumble
 
How many times a day do we compress,
lose our molecular mass?
 
Pressed beyond a first, second, or third draft,
overwritten, illegible, 
 
They’re doing their best  to make us all surface,
with no depth,

blame a fear of death
 
Pictures don’t die. They just decay
Sometimes the power goes out 
 
they blink, cease to exist
without pain, boredom, suffering
 
I’ve been assured as soon as the
the solar fields, and the Sun Drill Platform,
 
are finished, trademarked,
copywrote,  branded
 
we’ll be back as bright as before,
brighter where the shadows are deeper,
the Sun fails to shine
 
On the other side of this mirror, I’m crying
I know you are too
 
No matter how simple, true 
these human emotions,
 
*The Festival of Words!* are complicated,
shiny, colorful, embedded, and squished
 
together in this petri-dish,
where we are easy to manipulate
 
Drugs remind us, "You're in charge,"
although, we need the Artists 
to seize control
again,
 
help prop up the roof,
hollow out a space for the living,
apply paint thick and thin,
 
to every object-emitting gravity,
no matter how weak, and
 
to write words,
fleshing out the rocks and the trees and the sand
the roads, and paths, outside here,
and music, yes music
 
rolling through the air
roiling our bodies,
 
manifesting in space
this space
 
Where we write
When she first read
What her voice and hand said
in 1968, 
 
the same space,
now as it was then
 
Careful! Don’t stumble

dimensional
     steps
           can be
                   tricky

**“Furtive like a single Cyberman dreaming of conquest”**

Well, y'all, doing started here ended there. I'm blaming the eclipse. If you're into the astrology thing I highly recommend following Mountain Bruja
who should have a blog or substack soon but for now, https://www.instagram.com/mountainbruja/

Later,

Con/Jur/d, 6/10/2021