Judith Goldman: poem:
Cassette cathedral

  Judith Goldman

 
  poem
 

  Cassette cathedral

               (after VU, “Rock & Roll)

               for DK

The feathers come out. Of my coat
like in a dream what is what
is it me, I’ve ran out of
what it is you came
for, I’ve ran out my
organs       What holds them in place
to be looked at from where
she was just five years old
you know her life was       if
you try to stay in this
life       we all want a few more
minutes what is it that
makes you come you
came so much

if you try to stay
in this life, Then the contacts
was empty How to restore
Is that a fetal position
A computation
Any backups prior To
erase who you are
Once I was the same man
reentered manually Sword
wears down scabbard, the
keyboard       love rules
wolves       gloves are off
taping stuff
to the wall     I’ve
ran out of things
everything,       Everything is just
Deleted the contacts what is what
it is that
deleted

that a thing lives like
Some sort of thing that
you fold in half All I
want is for you to
make       yourself of what
you had been made like if
we are two tv sets       what
holds them in place is as able
to shelter behind
a sweet spot there are
oceans between       here
comes the ocean her life
was saved by this
fear anywhere

is it me to Suffer the little
clasp I’ll never be your
coat I ain’t your kind of
man you keep and
Everything is
just dirt just five
years old when she
was what it is I’ve looked
at from where faces look
like blobs cut
from the herd
Whereof I cannot cut       Phone me
when you Put me
out of my misery draw
the ocean the curtains we
all want a few
more minutes
a wave a rush a
radio       it can
be your face

what it is that you came for
two tv sets, two cadillac cars
single-edged swords       words
in italics in caps       in whitecaps
gladrags Her life was saved by analgesics
Cage match A words beatdown
arson of chrome in the throne room
Every surface sets its
own standard       Show
me where it hurts and
Send word
we are compressed
Glimpse limps the
packets batched too
close to the
Console, the       situation

in a dream by the
throat my
coat       station
to station     Bring
something back that
fine fine music
throw it all
at me all
I want
is for you to       dial
it back want to
feel good even
if I feel     bad
heaven ain’t if
you ain’t
where I’m rich
enough when
she was just     five
ain’t going if
you ain’t
there

you are
coming you came
so much will I
see you on
the other side I’m not
too blind to see

what it is what
is all this in italics
kingdom of this world
place palace of
you     you’re my
Borealis über alles
über alles

 

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goldman-judith-2015

Judith Goldman is the author of Vocoder (Roof, 2001), DeathStar/rico-chet (O Books, 2006), and l.b.; or, catenaries (Krupskaya, 2011). She teaches in the Poetics Program at the University at Buffalo, edits poetry features for the online academic journal Postmodern Culture, and is at work on ______ Mt. [blank mount], a project that writes through Shelley’s “Mont Blanc” in the context of past futures and future histories of ecological catastrophe.

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