book 1
created by sensewerks
I want to describe the
Body as a Book
A Book as a Body.
And this Body and this Book
Will be the first Volume
Of Thirteen Volumes.
The first bulk of the
book is in the torso,
Seat of the lungs
That fan the wind that dries the ink.
Seat of the heart
That pumps the ink
That is always red
Before it is black.
The heart and two lungs
are held upright,
Close, but not touching neighbours,
Sheltered by the covers of the ribcage,
Watermarked with dark twin punch-hole paper titles.
The breath of inspiration runs amongst them
Drawn down from the air by their shared influence.
No function of book or
body is singular
If a multiple service can be performed.
So the inspirational air
Shares the same passageway
With salts, words,
Sentences, Sweeteners, Paragraphs.
They all come tumbling down to flutter onto the ruminating page,
To lie in serried rows like rice-stalks
In a field, or stitches in a tatami,
Patiently awaiting irrigation
By water or by vision
Even if a reader does not appear for a thousand years.
The second bulk of the
book is in the belly
Factory for the mixing of materials,
A laboratory of sorting and threading,
Retaining and Remaindering,
A publishing house in continual flux,
Stamped with the indented chop of the navel,
Seldom idle, Never still,
Sharing space with preparations
For thefuture with the irony of economy.
Future and Past sharing the same thoroughfare.
Book and body always showing their evolutionary history.
I am the very necessary
Coda
The tail-piece,
the ever reproducing
Epilogue.
The last dangling paragraph
that is the reason
for the next book's
sprouting.
