ODALISQUE HAS BEEN SILENT VERY SILENT.

I HOPE YOU STILL THINK OF HER NOW AND AGAIN.  NO. THINK OF HER MORE THAN THAT, PLEASE.  THINK OF HER NOW.  AND NOW.  AND NOW.  AGAIN.

I WILL WRITE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU HOW IT IS SINCE SHE WON’T MAKE A SCRAPBOOK PAGE.  I WILL TRY TO SAY IT SO YOU WILL UNDERSTAND O YOU OUT-THERE.

coffee house you sit /imagine/ with blank paper and pen

listen music streams from responsive algorithms

listen there are conversations at tables with all chairs empty but one

talk talk about marketing /cause app art jeans/ marketing is a way to talk about money that sounds like sharing or making friends

listen gnat clouds of attention ghosting the nether-now of elsewhere and who

mesmerizing all the fingers on hand-held palm stones, light glass leaves.  swift fingers single shuttle a miniature loom weave /bandage veil fate/

or idly scroll as if skimming skin of a dull but distracting lover, heart battery in cellophane sleeve sealed with mildly-toxic adhesive

re pe ti tive         /pause/

fresh faces bathed in lightpalm glow as if looking down into unempty hands equals looking up at face of

dawn as if sky is

discrete on/versus/off

look up blank page

here is the future

it is very productive

what do you say

odalisque do you have anything to say

to the future

I don’t have anything to say to the past.  The past was no good for an odalisque.   Kindness.  Gentleness.  All anyone needs.

In this place you describe my unbelonging is fantastic.

I don’t know what to say to anybody anywhere.  I don’t know what to offer that is worth the time my offering would require for its meaning to become apparent.

Maybe I should be somewhere else right now.

But I am always here

I don’t know what to do.

Something else is not happening.  Elsewhere now was home.

I hope you think of me more than now and again.  Think of me now.  And now.  And now.  And now.  Again…

–The Odalisque