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notes on invisibility part 4


it is sunday again lord
we’ve returned and my shirt
is pressed tucked which you
of course can see maybe
preordained que se yo.

it’s a solicitous shade pale rose/sugar
water your choice not mine.

anyway here we are
worshipping i don’t know
how to/ if i am doing it
right i’ve never been told
that i can’t sing but i
know pretty much i am
no songbird lord. i write mostly
i arrange things on paper
the opposite of song.  here
i pray for small favors


but you must already
know what i pray for
it’s like this in the
story.    anyway i pray
just to do it. what
would i ask for? give
it to someone else i am
already missing the day.

and to think of night in here
and to cease and to close
with “Him” because
i’ve wondered without resolution
about him. why am i so
skeptical why am i so credulous lord lord

i’ve tied the paintbrushes
together with pencils and
set them to rest in
the top drawer.

used to think every-
thing that existed had
consciousness down to
the dirt the dust
so each time i placed objects
in drawers i introduced
them to the other items
inside so that
they could be friends and not lonely
in a new i guess place.

this is why it’s so hard
to pray i can’t separate
things or very well
understand them

blue is complicated, synesthetic jpegs—
like an hour went by and it looked the same
from the new window.

lord give me a middling love
not an old love not a young love
but a love washed
in Mistolín and Para Mi Bebé.


in a rundown unoccupied
classroom stationed between sections
and suppose that i do know where
not precisely but generally even
more than generally the cross-streets
at least it’s an art
classroom—there are crates
of acrylic table
cloths. and why _____ anyhow
anyhow why____ as often as divining
a message:

i do not
well she is fine
send me an example

and it goes on like that
never saying anything
same mrlborgh red as ever
in front of the church again again
for the sight or the telling of it
early mornings adjuncting
early mornings adjuncted.










or colors
or things
mornings are best
walking is best
streak of white
freak of white
one slow gesture of eyelid
i forget
if it’s them or me
or distortion
you know distortion unhhh hhuhhhhhnnnffhuhhuhuhuhhuhhhhh
all them old songs that say “little girl” and “child”
little gaarhl little chaaild of maaeen
que pena!
except we are our own girl child
in the morning
go _________________
______________________like that forever and when you get—well, maybe
walk______________________________a little more but then
__________________________________________that’s far enough, you
get to—where?
i can’t say
i am going to say
right right right right right right
when i want to i
wish we had telephones
so i could tell you like i’m saying it into
a brand new caller ID of a brand new cordless phone
you know those interviews in the 70’s where lou reed is uncouth & like this malfunctioned high-functioning creature and says things like, “hitler: good organizer. i’m not for the guy, but good organizer.”
justin i am wildly in love with you. all the bees
would fly out of the metal pole and apologize
if they knew
your voice walks into mine
my asleep that is awake
i scratched the graded pebble floor at craigh house in chile
and you jumped on your bed saying all the curse words you knew
justin’s  going to sleep
justin’s  sleep is going

what does it mean if the possessive is indiscernible from being and either way isn’t an action always corresponding with a state, you know, with being possessed in one way or another?
the most brown eyes
the most laughed laugh
the most slept sleep
you carry the umbrella like it’s a rifle that shoots poinsettias
a laugh travels through you, your hair a purple cascade over me
collective allowance pooled our funds in the catholic church you pointed with your long beautiful fingers at the book of revelations this is the book of revelations you said this is where the drugs are this is where we are you said this is outside again this is where we can lean and close our eyes in all of the dirt for now you said this is what i have you said this is what i have and therefore what i also do not have but have me, i said








hypothetical situation XVI


Forgetting is the follower/
Blue absent vindicator—the wall
same as the ceiling—and then blinds
in _____________’s stead.
In the stead of film trailers and not
watching them             like hey buddy

            this is the deal buddy
            we’ll eat the bagel at home, then.

I have a way with waves so many people
buy bagels.
Sea grape tree the unfaithful sea grape
tree casting paisleys on the Florida
window pesky window          pesky bagel—

            pesky eye full of high-rise
            the eye of all organs is the witch.

I have a way with _______________________ directed by
Roman Polanski on Friday at 8:00—
Or there’s Beowulf but the
2007 one yeah the bad one,
no not the one
with Rayden. I know.

            Skype the pearl— that ink-letting Skype!
            Pearl the eraser—pulling pearls
            up with periwinkles the Lex Luther periwinkles.

The whistle issues from the bite bade bye—
calls out and is called back.

Call an ambulance for all the scrapes
—call from inside
the empty swimming pool—

Petit list of reasons from the internet—read to its shores
like Cristóbal—cause you can’t actually go anywhere—like Cristóbal.

An ambulance will let you travel to the internet.
You list “things to do” with a pink gel pen— write, for one,
roller skate
pink trails of gel ink in streams behind you. Lists of pink.
Pink platano frito, dissected discarded in the spiky grass—sunning—

dear god if you are real
please don’t let
jesus into my room.

You got all these bobby pins touching all of your things
your pens your metro card your keys your laundry receipt your collateral QUEJESO.

Bobby pins bobby pins pins named Bobby bobby pins nightmare-giving bobby pins
Nightmare daymare nightmare pins.

You got chalk all over
the back of your pencil
skirt. You said it must
be drawn you say it too must be drawn
in silent green broad walls
there’r few words that must be drawn
and then again many
you said mamá petitions for silence
you said there is no silence
too common or green or in the common green
you saw lines without accent
someone said you send signals
but you said poor signal! / is it not so?
Rises falls rises falls
darkest emergency button  / truest tiniest textbook—ebbing pearl,
growth that whistles reduction
is this not so? It is so. It is not so.






Connie Mae Oliver

Connie Mae Oliver is a venezuelan poet and artist, and founding editor of FEELINGS. her second book of poems, science fiction fiction, is being published this year by Spuyten Duyvil Press.


The Brooklyn Rail

NOV 2015

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