the play of the weather 5 weather notes ellie epp

- 4



you might have one going by here, he might go by those spruce, they're real tame


put your legs apart           a little more           that would be the two poles         you'd put the trap there      and then you'd have some kind of a stick, with pricks, they don't like to step on that            they won't step on it

    so they'll step over it into the trap?

                                    they'll step over it into the trap.       i usually cover it with one of those men's kleenex, pull it apart, lay that over it, for the snow

what they say           i don't know if it's true      they say if a link goes by here, in three weeks he'll come by again,  like he's got a

    like he's got

                                              ... round.

                  a circuit?

yuh like he's got a circuit


often looking across to the pretty head by the typewriter


will you put this earring in for me?

    it's in the hole but i cant get it thru to the back, there's a little skin, there,
feel it                 does it hurt?     i think it's coming thru


walk them to the truck  thru cold air     she runs ahead     jumps in turns on the engine


she knows how to do that?           oh yeah, she can drive

she can reach the pedals?           well she has to reach down


she's turned on the headlights             the way he looks with the light on him         darkness behind him           miles       white day whiskers and the blurred eye           moon in its white above the pickup        some brown grass standing in the beam           clods       blue west much further on







early morning out over the porch for wood to make fire            no,
earlier, looking at the upper field lying on the hillside          that's the one i always liked


an attention in which there's no choice


excitement thinking how it can be built


i notice her sung call is being echoed from outside, long after she
released it       comes back faintly, twice,          am i the only one who
hears it
                                a cantina, at some distance,  it seems it's a jukebox song coming
from there,       twilight
            the second lighting of the pipe,    i accept a breath,     looking at the light on the goldy grass thinking      this is where i know, i'll still be here       & interested            sitting on the grass in a black robe, with my hands inside it      the woman next to me, one of the two, asks if it's like i'm pregnant  (not quite that)          a thin baby or a bag of groceries        
my friend sez
                       roll er over
hands and feet, rolled on the ground
suddenly    that's it   a male voice            look up shocked to a very large man in turkish dress           instantly know i've been sold & pull back my feet from the hands they're in         'they're hurting'       they're not but i want my shoes,  turkish, embroidered, off              in case i need to run or fight                  & instantaneously on my feet
switches to narrative   'six months later'      about to be sold as a
slave;      it was accomplished

shock wakes me



last night before sleep breathing              trying to watch the breath          after a while suddenly in an enlarged black space,    seemed the devil's realm,  that imagination of a head & face           - what's the word, makyo               stand firm & pass thru


similarity or equivalence structures



now she'll look

where've you bin
up there,   'working'
what're you waiting for
oh.  something with a roar in it
mine.   bigger swing.    underfoot,  push.    able.    course
      child,  free,  saying,  sweet
sweet.  isn't one of the men,  showing off,    rank.   oh sweet,
  so i can be
ah.   work?
that's it         has to be, rank,   wants to be,  sweet,
  shouldbe shouldbe   good.   wants to be wants
to be    ahh          pretty              had to leave pretty.                        but where's warm      oh    where's     i love you little baby
and then?
every day & child & field.   it's from the center.  not forced
hardly anyone does it right
no.         and you?
she slams her heels down. ha.       no flying way. no piercing.
no music no religion no lover no discovery
here.   stone melting out of my teeth.  not magic.  returned.
time. forced. find it. make it. none of those ways.
other. blamed. stranged



what'd you learn
the machine rhymes



the kid in tony's photograph        yeah something to keep
them that way           he had such a fire & i never saw him again
the eyeboy's little body            looking at the elders
tiny people in uniforms


hasn't a whole brain to help him                who does


it's crucial but no sight thru, don't know            in that
way, don't know         but fight more openly to learn what's there



looking thru the trees to the house



who knows so much



long flat craft         somewhat perspectived row           their west
sweetness of color
                                 samt  (ar-ras) the path  (over the head)
overhead azure & alone in it, smudges, of the eye          or?                              seen, it might be scintillating dots,     it might be full of round things                               alone with molecules     something with care & learning would be seen
lazhward    lazuli            l'azul            blueviolet persian            inks
behind me hiss tumult & from the side trees beating                being up there      noiseless  
    rectangle & open air                     then bushes by their reds     to come closer    around the red stems is a blueness         if the blueness is in the bush, but it is around the bush                    the grass stalks individually      the willow stems set as they are individual & spaced, vibrating
feeling back along the shapes, put memory with it, they were those hard definite cumulus you could walk on
                             over sun & flying west away from the largest one       the speed,  mass,      grey        and where the sun's,            a brilliant hole slightly iridesced, ragged                          stretched ice wind on face          whether the solid ones but moving fast, are carried in an even stream            distant slit break into green, singleship dives thru  
                        and why the isles of the blest :     they're seen    in the Western Ocean



and fell changes in speed (with) density


and here,   i'm then, as with no difference


it's surrounded by darkness that gives it the intense edge