sun17jan99
		(the flow the knife the flow)
		----------------------------------------------------------

		cutting up my own vegetables
		affords me a metaphor of cosmological passage

		whenever i am getting better from mania
		invariant: a crossing of onion layers of honesties
		making corrections admissions calibrations of affinities

		no really this wasn't like that at all
		yes yes yes i really meant it all of it
		well...
		no this has no chance of ever happening
		yes there is still magic here beyond explaining
		or simply

		this cutting -- this flowing -- has made me a better man

		as the knife cuts
		every body -- the spacetime -- flows around it

		a building is a knife it cuts
		a remembrance is a knife it cuts
		a sound is a knife it cuts
		a silence is a knife it cuts
		a congealing is a knife it cuts

		her face i snap-cut in transit on the el -- all flows --
		all knives

		i especially recall the puffy eyes the watery skin
		the cilia of transparent lashes
		saw her a cold puffin a waterlogged corn muffin
		a fit platonic shadow of the prettiest mousy girl

		a flow -- and a knife against the flow --
		that's all we ever get

		in one of my fish-rainbowy disk-plastics
		trapped kate bush signs:
		all we ever wanted -- a great big hug.

		then again
		a crumbling face is a flow
		an aging building is a flow
		a jogging body is a flow
		a fish-rainbowy disk-plastic is a flow

		blood on the inside tries like hell to be a flow
		don't it so don't it
		
		it's sooo relative: a flow vs. a knife

		my robyn hitchcock is caught knifing and flowing
		in my other fish-rainbowy disk-plastic:
		she cuts like a knife she cuts like a wife.

		my suzanne vega is caught in yet another:
		my favorite plum lies in wait for me
		i'll be right here longing endlessly.

		i am.  such a polyamory fishwife.  i am.


			Marek Lugowski
			17 January 1999
			Chicago, Illinois