G.C. Waldrep

Like Body
July 22, 2011 Waldrep G.C.

Like Body

 

1.

one light series    discrete
quick film architecture
love day vs. dead fact
ideas keep things    beautiful
ghost living makes
breath something small
the little night within “inside”
blood always / bees nothing
mind the almost dream
red service mean    discrete
fire-glass made image-voice
sky much else maybe
weather    eye-dark    new
hands at air music    small
though old, a little book
memory keeps pointing
image made story behind voice
the animals now in space-
time    mind’s forest left
another course, flame bodies
must really feel towards
motion, first man less surface
just another architecture
than war-flesh    hive-brace
makes the mind’s dog watch
fire’s black winter language

2.

fact makes man’s image
almost instrument    even
long sun-sky, country thought
dead toward small sleep
memory earth    —inside
architecture’s nightway
black point bodies    slow
bees know the body’s
anniversary    discrete
blood white enough maybe
rather without storm    music
behind anniversary’s call
the animals less film
than hand, mind, put back
nothing around war,
children make ghosts matter
earth’s mind-voice clutter
turn, hear the surface
dream-story, another flesh
something to keep place
away:  ghost series, forest
language    maybe real glass
things, art, photographs
death-shape behind someone
else     day-breath     red
water-body forms, else (how)

3.

fact / eye / forest / bees
always just inside, weather
keeps its anniversary
discrete    glass animals
little dead really    think
the body’s maybe motion
Sleep, winter man
now book    backstory
things water makes sprout
put flesh also, films come
through earth, hive rather
know the real ghost
how death forms an image
come vs. never fasten
firestorm’s small music
in the blood-house    then
someone sorts love from
memory    beautiful view
red enough    gets made
inside the mind’s flame-
body    its dream instrument
almost breath    another
now within time    left out
even children want things
without living, language
unpricks a snow-black sky

 

G.C. Waldrep’s most recent books are a long poem, Testament (BOA Editions, 2015), and a chapbook, Susquehanna (Omnidawn, 2013).  With Joshua Corey he edited The Arcadia Project:  North American Postmodern Pastoral (Ahsahta, 2012).  His new collection, feast gently, is due out from Tupelo Press in 2018.  He lives in Lewisburg, Pa., where he teaches at Bucknell University, edits the journal West Branch, and serves as Editor-at-Large for The Kenyon Review.