PART IV

INFOLDS & UNSPIRES

The footing of the human body is so complicated.

A kestrel breaks upward into beauty. Can gender be a lyric form?

If the river says so. The river says.

Is not God, is not one of the many little gods, innumerable.

Is not the body, but inheres within the body.

This question of appetite, of dietary laws.

A bit of broiled fish, to prove that one is not a ghost

infects the superanimate, the origin (as it were) of species.

Painters differ on whether the body of Icarus was recovered

wearing clothing, or what clothing it was wearing.

Identifying marks (wing shear).

Contents of stomach. Toxicology report.

Washed up as far away as Tasmania, New Zealand.

The girl remembers her mother said she was cold,

and then they were in the water a long time, sometimes together.

Enucleated, the body steals from the other animals

because an image tells it to? Allele for lactose digestion

moving slowly across western Europe

in time for colonialism, the triangular trade, mfecane.

Why does my wrist itch, why this particular

fire in the belly of language where gender rested?

Tender: easily affected, sensitive. By external physical forces

or impressions; acutely sensitive to pain, easily hurt.

Susceptible to moral or spiritual

influence, impressionable, sympathetic. Of a ship:

leaning over too heavily under sail-pressure,

“crank” rather than “stiff.” Sensitive to pious emotions

or injury; touchy, nervous, ready to take offense.

The pageant revolves, but slowly, in time with an invisible music.

The choreographers were the happiest

couple in the château. They were gay, so they weren’t

attracted to one another, they said. Every day

they locked themselves into the factory of their art,

without benefit of music.

Because it’s not about music, they said. It’s about the body

and what the body can be made to do.

The factories of their bodies, moving into and out

of the scars intention draws

as if from some substratum of flesh. Art surfaces,

language surfaces (and we call it

Faith. Light. Arrogance. Ministry).

Tendable: ready to give attention, attentive.

Or, able to be tended, receptive; handy, able to attend.

Tenderling: a delicate person or creature,

a person of tender years, i.e. a young child. The soft tips

of a deer’s horns emerging.

Innumerable gods of the body, in the body

and we call them organs, meaning, organic to the body,

meaning, producer of sound when air is forced through.

(Chladni noted the patterns in the night sky.)

Periodically one of the gods gets sick, dies maybe.

An eagle lives in the glen, you said, and one of the British

poets quipped, that sounds like a folksong.

Biohistory, or: what happened to the original men?

Did they die; were they killed haphazardly, or in some more

systematic way. Did they move north, west

were they somehow simply (?) prevented from reproducing.

Two roots, Latin tendere, to stretch. Latin tener, delicate.

Well what more can you expect if it has two roots,

you say, looking up from your magazine.

The body sells itself, sells parts of itself

to science, to medicine, to duration, that is, an idea

of health. Watch how the animals crowd closely together

so that they can all appear in the photograph.

Pump his stomach, send the contents to the toxicologists.

Eat as if every meal should be your last.

Root vs. rhizome, ramifying as from sources.

Moire, as overprint. (Those stamps no longer valid for postage.)

Or: seiche, intersection of wave motion in a medium

often caused on the surface of water

by earthquakes or other geothermal disturbances.

Other identifying marks: scars (multiple). Moles.

A bit of language, tattooed (on the inside of the wrist?).

Index finger on either hand slightly twisted

towards the far edge of the body, as if straining

to escape. Or averting its gaze.

Folksong as a map to race, as a race against maps.

Mammy’s in the kitchen, fourteen miles to Cumberland Gap.

Tender: having the weakness or delicacy of youth; immature.

Unable or unaccustomed to endure hardship, fatigue, etc.;

delicately reared; effeminate (sic). Of animals or plants:

delicate, easily injured by severe weather or unfavorable conditions;

needing protection. In reference to color

or light: of a fine or delicate quality or nature; soft; subdued.

Of things immaterial, subjects, topics: easy to injure

by tactless treatment; needing cautious or delicate handling.

Peel back the eyegrain to discover the perpetrator,

the last image beheld by the victim. What darker declivity.

Tenderloin, tendinous, tenderfoot. It gets cold

inside the castle at night, even in summer. We light fires in the grates.

Where did the other men go, the river is singing.

If you are magic you can heal me, Alice Notley writes.

We could make blame a pretty song, as in:

Who started this bleeding? We could weave a tune around it,

teach the tune to children. Create a folk tradition.

That is, assuming we want to heal,

stop the bleeding. We have to want to stop the bleeding.

The taste so sweet I couldn’t tell that I was bleeding.

And then, when I saw the blood, I thought it was just some new,

unexpected sweetness. Strawberry liqueur, perhaps.

For a moment I took pleasure in swallowing my own blood.

Tender: 1666, an offer made in writing by one party

(frequently to a public body) to execute,

at an inclusive price or uniform rate, an order for the supply

or purchase of goods, or for the execution of work

the details of which have been submitted by another party.

The body complete within its wound. The body complete,

unpierced, unshielded. All the ghosts are wearing spectacles.

Is that some new thing you’re doing with your hair.

The dream of flight is the dream of Noli me tangere,

to be shown the separable soul. Nobody ever asks whether Icarus

had any good reason to get away from his father.

Or from anyone else, for that matter.

It’s assumed altitude was its own reward, or light.

Because it’s a myth, we are not talking about a dead person here.

We can perform the autopsy in language and not feel

anything. Right? (You’re out of the room, somewhere else;

I can hear you humming, maybe in the kitchen.)

The thing is, it’s hard not to care, with our bodies

covered in vibrating ashes, and all the patterns these ashes make.

The thing is, they are only patterns if we see them, and as such.

War makes us more literate in the language of the body,

that is, the language of scars. Knowledge increases.

We talked about it, and what we were hearing on the radio, it all

seemed more or less like what we’d heard before

which made it, if not OK, then ambient, part of the same dream.

And oh! the little boats in the harbor, how we love them,

how the painters love them, perched at the pier, on the quay,

plein air. Tender: 1675, a smaller vessel commissioned

to attend men-of-war, chiefly for supplying them with stores,

conveying intelligence, dispatches, etc. 1853, a small steamer

used to carry passengers, luggage, mail, goods, etc.

to or from a larger vessel. 1825, a carriage specially constructed

to carry fuel and water for a locomotive engine, to the rear

of which it is attached. (Accompanying photograph.)

Carpal tunnel, little war in the wrist, little hollow script.

I saw this morning morning’s minion, dapple-dawn-drawn

falcon / boy / falcon / woman / kestrel / language / boy.

We flense the corpse, cut the skin in strips, feed them

through the projector. Please accept this gold-plated rib

on behalf of the city, as a token of the city’s esteem.

As for Dolly, someone cloned her, and then someone—

the same someone, or someone else, working for the same

someone—bred her (to a Welsh mountain ram,

says Wikipedia). She gave birth three times, in 1998

to a single lamb, in 1999 to twins, in 1999 to triplets.

Bonnie, Sally, Rosie, Lucy, Darcy, Cotton.

In 2003 she died of Jaagsiekte, a lung disease

caused by the retrovirus JSRN, common enough

among sheep. Her cloned genetic material may

or may not have contributed to her abbreviated lifespan.

Within sight of Pictish cupmarks, their standing stones.

War comes, and is partly archaeological.

We are excavating our bodies from our bodies,

away from other bodies. Light plays a role: brush away

the soil, the enclitic grammar of the flesh.