by MARIANNE MORRIS

e.g. this poem started off making tangible sense, before i cut it to shit and reordered it as an addendum to kai's idea of making space and time converge in one space and time, or the space and the time.  the poem you hear me reading on the tape is the last cut, the most twisted and undone rendering of the original piece, the words echoes of their original scenario. the following are three of the incarnations we chose from a group of twenty.

Time as entered space

returning as the red foot

border crossing swept under

white arms crossed soft under

her guilt, and penniless perception

which faltering continues: as straddled

moons come up sunlit, variously the light

improves and goes mild; the hands

illiterate glum shapes together.  Blake in his tree

house, getting on gods.  Dream in green, rubbish

heap and black plastic breathing, as waiting, as time

is interred space which getting back moves forward.

Time as entered space

returning moves variously

illiterate, glum, crossed soft

goes mild; together make Blake's God.

In penniless, faltering perception,

interred under her getting and black as

straddled moons come, as waiting, plastic

breathing, swept under and getting,

crossing his tree house, back red.  Foot

border shapes guilt, as light improves and

dream up sunlit, time is on, green rubbish heap,

the hands continue as arms, getting the space forward

Time border, crossed,

his faltering heap and

straddled moons border

Blake's God. Tree go and

getting light soft forward together red.

Continue, time space getting penniless

is variously under her getting under red.

Sunlit, under which guilt, as entered space

returning, moves foot, the hands improve and

come on white; perception interred back; mild arms

crossing rubbish dream black as waiting, plastic illiterate,

glum foot is green house.  Quit breathing, and get up

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