ODALISQUE IS POOR SCRAPBOOK MAKER THESE DAYS.
DO YOU KNOW WHY?
OWL KNOWS WHY.
TO NO AVAIL.
COLD IT IS AND HARD TO FLY.
OWL WANTS STARLING FOR FOOD.
ODALISQUE SAYS NO.
BUT STARLINGS ARE SO MANY AND OWL ONLY ONE. WHY NOT EAT A STARLING, ODALISQUE? WARM STARLING BLOOD SQUIRTS THICK IN OWL GULLET.
ODALISQUE SCOWLS AT UNCIVILIZED OWL.
OWL SEES FROM OBELISK LAND BLISTERING COLD. STARVED.
FEED ME FEATHERS FED ON GRASS THAT ON THE SUN FEEDS.
NOCTURNAL OWL SEEKS SUNLIGHT
SOLAR FUEL POWERS NIGHTLY FLIGHT.
SUN IS STAR WHOSE LIGHT OWL EATS
IN BIRD AND MOUSE FROM BLADE AND SEED,
ODALISQUE, IN CUSHIONED NIGHT
OWL WINGS ARE QUIET, OWL CLAWS PRECISE.
OWL IS UNCIVIL, OWL DOES NOT SLEEP
OWL HUNTS FOR LIFE TO ON LIGHT FEED.
Yes, we are here. So soon after the solstice it’s Happy New Year. Year THREE of my life in the obelisk has just passed by.
This year Hawk found a record underneath a rock. We called it crow morphology and tried, unsuccessfully, to decipher it. Henriette sent a postcard–she found a job in Venezuela! I invited her to visit us in the obelisk, but I haven’t heard from her again. I dreamed on cosmic dream radio: deer crashing, and a song from the sountrack of my favorite movie. I wondered “Are you bringing me flowers?” (YOU. YES YOU.) Black Swan did bring flowers from the marsh but Hawk brought me a squirrel tail which Owl promptly ate. I was so glad. I mean, sad.
For the solstice, the birds made me a niche. Three years in the obelisk and I finally have a niche!
Here are some pictures from my scrapbook this year:
Here is a dream I dreamed:
ODALISQUE DOES NOT SAY HELLO NO SHE DOES NOT.
I AM SORRY.
I AM TRYING TO RECORD HER DREAMS IT IS VERY HARD.
MAYBE I WILL SHARE ONE SOON.
I AM SORRY SHE HAS NOTHING TO SAY.
I HAVE THINGS TO SAY.
HELLO I AM OWL.
in a dark and dated hotel room with the boy you tried to kiss his name the name of greek statues the ones that hold up temple porches
get ready. before a plate glass mirror get ready
to fly north for an event.
planes to catch in metallic hangars it is so hard to get to these planes.
city streets treacherous they all drop down into round-a-bout bottoms like the bottoms of bowls. bowl bottom is stable equilibrium says math class. no catching a plane in the bottom of a bowl without a dose of irrational energy.
i fly. afraid to lose the earth. no worries. boy and girl are bound to earth. i bear them.
sidewalk man in suspenders makes chalk mandalas on the concrete very colorful they are.
maybe he is the one.
that girl has fantastic boots. red cross-stitched.
maybe she is the one.
will the bicycle make it up the hill, out of the city, to that dark road running home? see road slope and curve beneath o’erhanging trees shadow trees where insects sing.
we / land / ground / earth on a paved plaza.
event hotel! off-center lobby. elevators to rooms where folded schedules are forgotten. long brown halls. stumble upon an intimate, semi-circular hall where businesspeople in frumpy suits karaoke made-up lyrics to classic rock songs. in one room girl having an argument with staff about what she knows to be true. time to go home. surely the event is practically over time to catch another plane. for vacation. girl can’t find keys to room where her things are and can’t remember where her room is but
look a forest. a cube of forest bounded by glass. stunning concept. balanced with fore-thought / but wild. red leaves / peacock blues of ever-greens. deep deep ground forest sunk so to see into canopy
technicolor forest caged between glass viewing corridors of event hotel.
here was well thought-out. here is worthy of contemplation. here be still.
I forgot the owl!
Owl was not into fashion like the other birds.
Regard Owl, irritated, on the shoulder of an odalisque.