211. Days of Commuting and Being
You hear the sounds of the street before
you feel the wind traveling through
Winter like a scrap of paper
scuttling down the sidewalk
its scratching almost audible
en la voz de la última vez
con los nombres sin números
every numbered street passes by your feet
Descent into the city is south and down
into darkness or where darkness would be
Trains through that darkness
move through tubes of defined space
and inside in a cylinder of light
you sometimes glance out the windows
at other windows almost even with yours
slipping slightly faster or slightly slower
through what remains a darkness
mira el milagro de la noche
todavía la noche y los ojos mirando
at the end is the opening up and out
and into the light and the cold
surrounding it and the cold that surrounds
Turning to the right and up a street
on a new sidewalk and a new island
moving to a building and a space into warmth
into warmth made out of the space of winter
an elevator and a square tube upward
a la luz de la voz de enero
la voz de un futuro sin pájaros azules
everything just a memory of the future
Space is divided by squares and rectangles
a drawer in a filing cabinet against a wall
window opens the wall to light
a square of blue sky enough for remembering
the hole of a door through a wall
desk by a table with a computer screen
what opens are words after words to you
un día con el teléfono a la oreja
la boca con las palabras perfectas y mutadas
what is done is in a sense speaking
In a sense collecting and putting together
or taking apart as it is a process of connection
uncovering or rearranging the order of facts
the address of the name of the place
of the person of the question needing answer
y por eso somos los artículos de la razón
estamos viviendo adentro de la raza humana
you as a process of an answer
a conduit to resolution and the means
of making an idea move forward
forward so that it might eventually move away
Eventually there is the return and the steps
to a return made with the steps in reverse order
after a while it all seems as if it would never end
Days seem like days past and days future
and somehow miraculous for that fact
everything seems to repeat unendingly
but there is eventually an end to it
and sometimes it is sleep
you feel the wind traveling through
Winter like a scrap of paper
scuttling down the sidewalk
its scratching almost audible
en la voz de la última vez
con los nombres sin números
every numbered street passes by your feet
Descent into the city is south and down
into darkness or where darkness would be
Trains through that darkness
move through tubes of defined space
and inside in a cylinder of light
you sometimes glance out the windows
at other windows almost even with yours
slipping slightly faster or slightly slower
through what remains a darkness
mira el milagro de la noche
todavía la noche y los ojos mirando
at the end is the opening up and out
and into the light and the cold
surrounding it and the cold that surrounds
Turning to the right and up a street
on a new sidewalk and a new island
moving to a building and a space into warmth
into warmth made out of the space of winter
an elevator and a square tube upward
a la luz de la voz de enero
la voz de un futuro sin pájaros azules
everything just a memory of the future
Space is divided by squares and rectangles
a drawer in a filing cabinet against a wall
window opens the wall to light
a square of blue sky enough for remembering
the hole of a door through a wall
desk by a table with a computer screen
what opens are words after words to you
un día con el teléfono a la oreja
la boca con las palabras perfectas y mutadas
what is done is in a sense speaking
In a sense collecting and putting together
or taking apart as it is a process of connection
uncovering or rearranging the order of facts
the address of the name of the place
of the person of the question needing answer
y por eso somos los artículos de la razón
estamos viviendo adentro de la raza humana
you as a process of an answer
a conduit to resolution and the means
of making an idea move forward
forward so that it might eventually move away
Eventually there is the return and the steps
to a return made with the steps in reverse order
after a while it all seems as if it would never end
Days seem like days past and days future
and somehow miraculous for that fact
everything seems to repeat unendingly
but there is eventually an end to it
and sometimes it is sleep
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