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Nathan

About Me

I was just thinking about my father’s old apartment, with the deep blue wall-to-wall carpet and the big sliding glass doors that led out to the central common area, where the big stones were, and the pine trees, and the swimming pool.I was just thinking, and my thoughts were both old and colorful, and I still remember the surface of the big granite boulder that I was almost too small to climb up on.I was just listening to the rain fall in the courtyard in Vienna, as the planet moved around the sun.I was just feeling the cool air flow in though the window and wash over my back.I was just thinking that 38 is pretty old, only 12 years to 50, and the 40s will go by in a flash.Last night I dreamt I traveled to China in a big steel boat that sailed through the air. We landed in a hardware store that had closed for the night. It was full of farming implements, and a Chinese guy I’d been traveling with warned me to take something sharp to protect myself against thieves.Later I dreamt I worked in a mental institution, and a patient checked in with obsessive fantasies about assassinating the president, and I was thinking about how to treat him using psychodrama.Last night I was then, I was now, I was ever and ever, over and over again.There was a roof over my head and a full meal in my belly.Dirty socks on the floor and a Master’s degree on my resume.Lions in my family tree, shotguns and howler monkeys in my time-lapse photography.In the midst of the history of the world, I was writing poetry to myself, wondering if anyone would hear me.And time passed, fluttering its many wings,And I looked up and there you were.I was just whipping some cream,Hoping you would come.I was just sharpening some stones,Hoping you would come.I was just assembling some miscellaneous items from our collective experience,Hoping you would come.You’ll be happy to know that I flushed the priests and kings down the toilet with these torn hands.Freed the minds of millions with these torn hands.Broke the chains that bound us with these torn hands.And whatever it is that we’ve all been looking for, I feel like I could just about find it, right now.It must be around here SOMEWHERE.It MUST be around here somewhere.I was just looking around confidently, convinced that it was around here somewhere.It might be somewhere in the history of Europe.Might be somewhere in the blistering sunlight or the pounding rain, falling on fields, falling on troops.I was just thinking it might be hidden in my beard, with the guns.I was just thinking it might be on the tip of my tongue.I talked my way in and out of trouble with this torn tongue.Mixed lies and truth like paints on a palate, on this torn tongue.Walked through dozens of towns in this torn body.I taught hundreds of classes with this torn language.Flirted with hundreds of girls with this torn smile.Spoke hundreds of dirty words through these torn lips.Walked across the graves of hundreds of people with these torn feet.I walked slowly under clouds filled with millions of spirits with this torn body.I was just talking with someone else about this.She saw everything a little bit differently from the way I saw it.Where I saw anacondas, she saw elephants.Where I saw elephants, she saw meteorites.Where I saw meteorites, she saw herself, and this took me absolutely by surprise.So I put down the radio and the gun and climbed a tree to try to feed the birds that were swelling up inside my chest.And whatever it was that we had all been looking for, I realized I might have found it and then left it somewhere by mistake.Maybe on the sofa during the party, or maybe five hundred meters behind the sofa, hanging over the valley in the darkness.I must have put it somewhere while I was thinking.In fact, I might have forgotten where I put it because I’ve been talking so much.So I’d better not talk anymore.At least not for 38 more years.At least not for a moment..I saw hundreds of obsidian jaguars with this torn mind.Heard thousands of songs with these eager ears.I burned thousands of cobwebs with these words of fire.Last night it was late and I was tired of looking for it, so I went to sleep. Sleep welcomed me. He threw me a party. He said, “Nathan, welcome, come in, we’re all here. All of us.”Later came the dream where I was flying to China in a big steel boat that rocked as it floated on the night wind. And later there was the other dream about the mental patient who fantasized about assassinating the president.I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes I feel like I can’t wait to be dead. All this wondering and agonizing will be over.It’s not that I want to hasten the process, though. I find living incredibly interesting, even here, even now.I’ve stared into thousands of shop windows with these searching eyes.Read thousands of horrific news headlines with these sad eyes.Made thousands of scientific discoveries of my own with these bright and hopeful eyes.Once flew in the nighttime through lightning storms all the way down Central America to Costa Rica with these excited eyes.I’ve seen plants in the jungle wet with rain with these calm eyes.And almost despite myself, I’ve given voice to language.Language is mirrors that reflect experience in ever-evolving arrangements.And experience is moving through waves of pain and pleasure--but that doesn't even begin to describe it.And every word means something.And every finger points to something.And every foot is traveling somewhere.And one can ask oneself, where is this body going?Where is this blood going?Where is this planet going?Maybe I didn’t want to write this poem.Maybe I wanted to write a different one.But I've moved a million ways in this torn wilderness.Made a million sounds in this torn language.Waved a million wavy flags in this wavy universe.And I’m only 38.Who knows what I’ll do in the next 38 years.Who knows what I’ll remember when I’m 76, if I live that long.I was just thinking about my father’s old apartment, with the deep blue wall-to-wall carpet and the big sliding glass doors that led out to the central common area, where the big stones were, and the pine trees, and the swimming pool.I was just listening to the sound of the rain, as the planet moved around the sun.I was just thinking.I was just listening to the sound of the rain.

My Interests

I'd like to meet:

Dunno, just putting out a kind of virtual antenna here, trying to keep pace with technology.

My Blog

Click languages

The Kalahari Bushman tribes have four different clicks that they use as consonants. Other South African tribes employ clicks to lesser degrees. The first consonant in the name of Nelson Mandela's trib...
Posted by on Sun, 07 Oct 2007 00:05:00 GMT

Remembrance of past time

Sanded a small floor with a big sander, warped pine boards from 100 years ago, the servant's room.
Posted by on Mon, 24 Sep 2007 00:01:00 GMT

Language learning

About nine years ago in Ann Arbor there was a young Turkish guy in one of my classes. He was about the worst one in there. He had a great attitude. Every time he spoke to me, I had no idea what he was...
Posted by on Wed, 19 Sep 2007 00:37:00 GMT

Love Data

Search me Select me Upload me Save me
Posted by on Wed, 11 Jul 2007 11:07:00 GMT

Part of the Story

Regarding the big questionwhat are we doing here on the planet at this time, and how did we get to this pointI had kind of an eye-opening experience in the Art History Museum here in Vienna a few ye...
Posted by on Sat, 09 Jun 2007 14:18:00 GMT

Whales and shamans

In 2000, I visited the Guatemalan-American writer and translator Victor Perera at a rehabilitation center in California. He was happy to see me, while obviously frustrated at the Wernecke's aphasia th...
Posted by on Wed, 14 Mar 2007 13:12:00 GMT

Cortazar quotation

"On the level of day-today facts, the attitude of my nonconformist is translated into his refusal of anything that smells like an accepted idea, tradition, a gregarious structure based on fear & He hi...
Posted by on Thu, 22 Feb 2007 21:23:00 GMT

1989

one day in paris i noticed that pigeons have iridescent necks
Posted by on Tue, 20 Feb 2007 11:38:00 GMT

Japanese proverbs

I wanted to share some very short literary worksthat have been enchanting me lately: Japanese proverbs from Wikiquote. (http://en.wikiquote.org/w/index.php?title=Japanese_proverbs &oldid=59810)I invite...
Posted by on Sat, 17 Feb 2007 23:04:00 GMT