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micron

Jack Galmitz

northing 2013

micron copyright 2013 by Jack Galmitz All rights reserved ISBN 978-1-304-05501-9

northing press

Homage to Frank Samperi and Robert Lax for Ya Li

I have a quarter in my pocket. It once was valued=meant of the purchasing power of a U.S. dollar and was made of an equal amount of silver. Presently:
Value Mass Diameter Thickness Edge 0.25 U.S. dollar 5.670 g (0.182 troy oz) 24.26 mm (0.955 in) 1.75 mm (0.069 in) 119 reeds 91.67% Cu 8.33% Ni

Composition

Years of minting 1796, 18041807, 18151828, 1831present Obverse

How it has changed its composition=value. Never mind how mentioning it could lead to the history of mining and countries that supply the constituent materials (not to mention metallurgy). Everything changes: meaning, history, context, politics. You dont have to do anything more than mention it.

green fire on a mossy rock barium blast flame of the forest self-combustion as rags piled in a closet green butterflies congregated for what purpose

leave the butterflies be mating above the field do not post your name there white gown, gloves, pillbox hat and veil pivot in the air the clouds and the Shogetsu

shortwave radio chatter my connection to momentary matters

5.

driving through the city the sky brushed black and a bit yellow the streetlamps unlit but the tail-lights reddened you feel like reaching out and touching it

we postpone the bicycle trip distant thunder & a ranging gray sky keep us inside. I sit on the porch look at all the greentrees, shrubs, grass, wild weeds: I hear the first drops on the awning. Theyre welcome as a slowly drawn bow on a cello

7.

the raindrops fall singly and slowly now into the bucket the storms ending resembles its beginning everything between variations on a theme repeated over

8.

to day was like oth er days the tree ss shad ows were more act ive

9.

a mime imitating autumn falls to the floor and lies in his shadow

10.

the dirt brown feathers and black markings of the Passer blend in with the leaf shadows it climbs silently as the root taps soil alights on a pencil thin branch nervously until it is joined by others

11.

There was a space race. We were in polo shirts & dungarees playing baseball in the dirt and grass of the courtyard. Suddenly, I heard a noise as if the sky had been torn aside & looked for help from the older boys: its an X-15, they explained, that just broke the sound barrier. I was amazed: when the barrier is broken, sound is actually rent open and you can hear the sky cry. one of the boys, like an umpire, pointed to the pitchers mound and said play ball.

12.

It was an ordinary day & after school we played softball, handball, pitched quarters. However, the psychic, Jeane Dixon, had predicted the world would end that day - February 4, 1962so we gathered in the handball courts (for closeness, comfort, for proximity should it happen) and sniggered at the ideasince we were boys of wisdom, science, reasonyet still stood station to witness. We waited till the predicted hour passed and thats how the world ended that day as we went our separate ways home to diner.

13.

approach words as you would criminals cautious not to be captured they stalk, stagger, walk in file the way men do in a police lineup they all look alike it was dark I only saw him a moment his figure his face his attire are like the others which one to choose as much depends on my decision

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the word could be orange or might or murder it depends on the mouth

15.
spirit uality must be trans parency if solids r corrupt ability please bring some sugar I find the coffee bitter I list satin lining of her cotton dress satin slip meet the en to the swish of her

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from what dark mind came black ness what bright mind brought lumi nosity to share it the moth beats furi ously to dy ing is the de sire of dy ing ent er the fire at the peak of be ing is

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In Florence crowds gath er before David not as the under dog conquerer or for his re gal ity but for his beauty beard less long wavy hair muscular boy becom ing a man his man hood dis played his buttocks rounded he is long history of homo sexuality seventy percent of its men had male lovers this desired Florence when he was sculpted had a is in the stat ue

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if the work is good it brings the reader to a place In clud ing mind where they ve nev er been ev en if it s their own home

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the light dances up wards down wards the surface doesn t matter flat round warped crack ed new repair ed it is on ly the dance that matters

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the world is not a mirror it is crack ed each person a shard sees them selves do not look there to see your self you could be cut & or trap ped

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fol if you live in the past you are living there now there is here any how you don t have to low ad moni tion s about living where how when what is al ways now here there is no where to be found

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in the forrest I saw a family of deer who saw me & ran as if I was a murd erer & this carr ied in the air

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one fair day the sky will part & Take you in you won t be afraid a breeze will warm yr hands & face if mourners come & leave a rock on yr rock you ll do the same

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soon there will be droughts & floods we have offend ed Gaia & Uranus

25.

I spend most days indoors the blinds closed against the brutality outdoors. Ive left the world & its 7 24 of chatter that passes for/whats true (our ancestors in the arbors). I only have blank sheets of paper (with stock, watermarks, fibers) to fill space leave space as I do & become a moment ary existent & a word (erased) & re-written. Do not place lilacs at my desk for Ive left the world but still hear trumpeting in the living & its distracting.

26.

Binate leaves play for me ambient ly for their repeated structure is a score of music their edges (smooth or serrated) determine the tone & timbre -uncut gardens are symphonic & I have to go outside & lower the clamor.

27.

Puffing up an inclined street (cigarettes burnt out my lungs) I always stop, not just to catch my breath, but to see beyond the shadows of a shadowed house the light caught in the light of the newly undressed leaves. Photosynthesis, yes, but magnificently it also magnifies energy in me for all my processes; including standing caught in the light till its beauty breaks me up & Im lost in light of a foreign place.

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I wait for summer not for its flowers or for treks to the sea but to see the undulations of starlings in the thousands near the top of a hill where at its peak theres a church with a cupola of verdigris

29.

A nymph entangled in a tree I freed in return she bestowed upon me a meadow its walking sticks & a moon to

see the rocks of creativity

30.

Night. Im in the passengers seat as we drive beside the El beside the harbor with its boats rocking to the tide, close beside the marshes the tan reeds, the gravel chute, the cement company, the stadium advertisements unlit, a splintered barge stuck in muddy water unused for years, the moon manages to find the salvage yards and light the crushed cars stacked to the sky like a modern cathedral to which I pay homage: night

31.

I toss the newspaper into the garbage can not to be a good citizen but to shed myself of enforced truth & then, everything is new. N.B.-I do not say brand new for branding is what newspapers do.

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The Hare Krishna who developed a compulsive disorder- buttoning his shirt over and over- when discharged from the hospital one night alone crawled along the catwalk of the Throggs Neck Bridge until one-third across, low tide exposing the jutting rocks, left us to wonder there.

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What could I have said to them that might have made a difference: my parents and their neighbors in folding chairs in the shade of the two trunked oak talking of sports & politics of children & the troubles of others, now that they are dead.

34.

I was indifferent to dimensionality & the deception of perspective so I followed the flat surface painters in their pursuit of truth only to find that paper was not a plane and the printed word was an object with three-dimensions, if only one micron thick.

35.

Her movements are a language Ive learned the conjugations of and can respond appropriately to= its a language game for two.

36.

In the foyer a raincoat on a peg, an umbrella & galoshes; not a drop of water for defense.

37.

Driving through Manhattan at night, the buildings are menacing (Miltonic) and tightly bound, the sky the reddish brown of a dung beetle moving around. I depress the gas pedal & dont look back. It could be my imagination but imagination is where Im found.

38.

Walking in the city night with nothing in mind the lights reflected in the rain slick asphalt drives I see a long line of people, so I get behind having no idea of whats in side.

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The two of us. Together so long its hard to tell whos the woman and whos the man. The two of us. Together so long neither of us care. The two of us. Old enough to buy funeral plots, but together so long neither of us is ready to part. The two of us. We barely speak now, but no the others thoughts.

40.

All the trees encased in ice. Every now & then a wind strong enough to rattle them & rain down crystal to the crystal ground. We spend the day listening to the sound, concrete music appropriate to our industrial town.

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the moon shall be water and water shall be the moon when the clouds are in the heather and she sleeps alone

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the clouds are in the heather and she sleeps as a stone when she stops dreaming the world will be gone

43.

In a public square where I once worked people came to eat their lunch. Bordering the square was a small cluster of white birch. I made an abstract painting of the trees thin white lines & black here & there for the knots. I dripped some light green that gave the impression Of hanging leaves. You can download it for free; for my art I never charge a fee. I only make art to give back whatever I took.

44.

Id like to pay homage to a woman I know who has such pain in her bones & is so weak that she cannot work. Shes housebound and the only thing she can do is write. She contracted lyme disease from a deer tic dropped from a tree limb & burrowed into her body just as she was passing. She wrote a book of poems that are magnificent & give thanks for her illness because it made space in her for mercy & loving kindness. The name of the book is

Circumference of Mercy;
I wont mention her name because that would be embarrassing.

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