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A weekly video reading of poetry by the poet.
To Diane di Prima from Japan
by Jesse Glass
Thinking my way
into & out of my life
This morning.
Rain in Japan
empty rooms filled w/ machines
Chewing the silence
into slurries
& pulps
America (an elec-
Tronic dream wav-
Ering before my eyes
gives me a headache.)
I died in Oswego, New York one spring afternoon
fell flat on my nose on the sidewalk
A pay phone receiver still clutched in hand
seeking directions
To another nowhere
Left that old body behind
& sat down among ghosts
In Economy class
& flew to Osaka, then
Nagasaki, then (as in a dream)
Fukuoka,
Now finally here
an elegant ghost wife
& two bright ghost children
Later
An aquarium
W/ 3 gold fish
On the front balcony
(They strike
The rain drop dimples
Nibble sky)
is it true?
Can the dead
Still dance
W/ a cheap plastic umbrella in one hand
& do they smile, learn to
Converse in ghost language
Write alphabets that resemble
Drawings of flower pots?
Can they finally find something
after a life-time
of nothings?
Thinking my way
Into and out of my life
This morning
53 years old.