marlene mountain
from the mountain
found sequence
a gathering 1981

june 25-december 27 1981

found sequence: a gathering 1981

a day to really bitch about thinking also of haiku
i am with him sometimes we are good to each other always
half gone year i'm scared to look for dying leaves
everything hinges on everything else
pay raise spent two months ago
the moon renewing with her
clothes on the line may may not dry
time alone never wasted
sack lunch fixed at 7:30 mist
to think to feel to be alone
the peekaboo shirt who is saying boo to whom
my child turns fourteen some days i'm older some days younger
trying not to cut off my leg with the chain saw i bump my head on the tree
the fear of being robbed of having even less than less
what time is there even instant tea
flash of blue lights siren of ambulance another day on the road
the child away 5 weeks talking to myself is fun
the last clock to reset the one which buzzes so loudly each work day
how is it my neighbor does it how is it i do it (after basho)
home at last starting the bach record where it ended this morning
1/3 for mortgage of 101 acres rarely seen
14 41 my son and i at good ages
second day after a week's vacation i need a vacation
made art this weekend how about you next weekend
14 41 good ages son and i
if it weren't raining it wouldn't be raining
the night alone you on my mind turned 2 other men down
thoughts of you
you listen to my thoughts on women's art we love
turned down 2 other men this week being in love
i talk about women's art
the calendar counted again we're crazy
in the beer we drink naked
but then i've always been
i can't make that commitment again
i won't make that commitment
matters of the heart are matters for the mind
i write women's haiku as i drive home
all my energy spent on another's ideology
light rain as the asparagus is cut tonight would be good for love
light rain as the asparagus is cut a good night for love
the real from the unreal
my mind works in mysterious ways and i love her
pregnant beer cans collected from the road side
morning coffee what is women's haiku
my son and i turn 14
day after vacation vacation needed
midcycle staining
in town a friend is down
the stove out the water sometimes
less now to deal with
rare is loneliness
if the rain quits a carpenter in the morning
if rain maybe a painting
the house warms
summer ends with bleeding
summer turns to autumn with bleeding
blood connects summer to autumn
bleeding summer into fall
so what if i've got an ass to the wolf
first freeze letters and bills pile up
dry spell what ideas are churning in sleep
norma's blouses 'going out of business' autumn mist
autumn mist cash for the used car
one bill paid another comes due bareness of the poplars
there is the home the nest within
on such a day our love lasts quarter to 4
rain has finally come/but with no satisfaction/the morning you leave
home/late/no light left on
triangle is ours
our triangle
yoni
clitoris of the four year old removed
womanslaughter
we gather kindling our fire
cold morning cash for the used car
anniversary of marriage of divorce
the mounted cop dismounts
too far between
art becomes what was the opposite
tell the comfortable about the uncomfortable
find out
the uncomfortable must reach the comfortable
preparation for winter ends with the 1st snowfall
the wood cut/the wood stacked/the wood burns
thread lost in the cheap beer
listen to the uncomfortable
why not a good midafternoon answer
no control
the nest within
wish i were radical
long-awaited rain/no satisfaction/the morning you leave
midwinter heat from her glowing coals
midwinter heat from the wood herself
she a maple cut stacked in the shed
drawing together the ways of the moon
our love in tree rings
our two tree ring love
two-tree rings of love
alone words given to the caged owl
moon not understood for who she is
you return with snow slip into my night
doe the system
do not know me less as i know myself more
snow leaves the roof imagined
real from the unreal from the real
alone after talk with the caged owl imagining your orgasmic sounds
snowed in talk with the caged owl memory of your orgasmic sounds