winter 3

winter notes 

ellie epp




have there been times when you were really with him?

no not very often           i turn into a robot


it s like another time, the pressure & not knowing at all how to do it


she has the sash up one inch & raises her hand to feel the air


from here to there & in a complete cube


that s what I want, that sense of the moment


the way someone comes into a room


his face shines when his bicycle s fixed

he drinks a cup of coffee & wants to talk about god


the music he doesn t understand        garbled     at first antagonistic                   he s asking to be informed


he sees something and tells it, & I can partly join him           I realize that was what I was waiting for           he invites me to lie next to him in the narrow space between him and the edge of the table            a waterfall & looking out across the tops of palm trees


wake thinking  in the dark   at 5     turn on the light, write here with tea           luke wakes at 7:30 when it s pink           twisting stretch out of sleep, bum underpants      -      ellie      -      what countries would be hurt if a waiter dropped a tray on thanksgiving           blue day outside               in the room orange electric light

basement cafeteria      woodwards          young waitress with strange curls        `that woman comes in here every morning first thing in the morning she talks about war. it s enough to make a person upset'             old welfare bodies breakfast coffee & a donut


red leaves   walking fast   upslope   stiff leg   past tourists   to the aquarium        looking for her uneasy she won t come, trying to phone          thinface person khaki clothes a daddy's brown wool & leather sweater       I am so moved to see her,   without permission to say so,   feel sorry,   have to stay in the truth of the distance


the turtle's beak, dog nostrils, eyes in creased turrets, flipper s plane   rowing      pivoting wings, interminable,   knocked its face against the glass          let / me / out