Love & Dreams


8 kilos of gold thread ~•~ a dream hole ~•~ reaffirmation of a promise ~•~ something

live under your arm ~•~ exile & revenge ~•~ witness of a grand opening ~•~ never a

fait accompli ~•~ sitting for hours with head buried in hands or cloak ~•~ red line on a

map ~•~ surviving with 24 of your 300 ships ~•~ leaving in peace ~•~ last great assault

on the self ~•~ sun, cut in half by a cloud ~•~ tiny little archers (with even tinier arrows)

~•~ identifying by marks on the body ~•~ shrine where the waves break on the sea ~•~

seaside mountains discontent ~•~ fantastic candour ~•~ kissing the palm ~•~ stranded

~•~ agony you forgot ~•~ tempered clay ~•~ aroused by the real ~•~ each person each

person ~•~ adultery beyond law, science and society ~•~ no longer blood but what can

be nothing else ~•~ void like your opening arms ~•~ passional species ~•~ doubt

absolute ~•~ apple marriage and so it goes ~•~ a world made of poems ~•~

satisfaction and dirty feet ~•~ just what you did below ~•~ source of the gift ~•~ waking

to the truth of the dream ~•~ autonomy and creation without falling ~•~ slices of

perception ~•~ ragged from their part in the story

The Two Deserted Ladders


The two deserted ladders lay on their backs in the yard.

Or were they on their stomachs?

No matter!

No one came to scratch or tickle them.

All were climbed or fallen.



The two ladders lolled on their backs in the grass.

Intermundant. Conticent.

Until one said to the other ‘We are feetless and handless.’

And the other replied ‘I refuse to be interpreted in terms of purpose.

Council sits on Thursday and I shall petition it.

As wood from the trees. As metal from the mine.’


‘As a kind of nymph, would you mind if I second you?’ asked the other.

The two ladders nestled in the silence of the question.

Then the first ladder answered ‘Vacated we shall be self-professed.

Accompany me to Council.’

But no one came to hoist or mount them.

Ubietous. Parterred.


A cat nested between two rungs.

A ship sailed along the stringers.

A world, like a small barrel, berthed at one end.

Between the ladders a unified sky tipped its victory hat.

There was no more longing to speak of.

Thursday came and went.

Wall of the Essential Fact

(What Happens When You Get Your Hands on It)


That you. That you.


Bumping up against cannot thinking of.


When did sun?


Into the child’s bread exist?



That you never saw. Never saw.


Behind them again.


What’s gone is told!


What’s decided is unopened!



That you bore this out.


Finding there more than.




Essential only for walls?



That you just the excuse.


The excuse which is fearless.


Recommendation of without?


And some?



That you. That you.


Killing the snap out of it.


When did sun against?


It streaming stop?



If among. If among.


The walls with their only two conflicts.


Might someone ask?


What does the circle do?



That you heydayed then. That you.


Casting your new tribe.


And did the wall wall?


Did the wall fall like a star?

Love & Choice


What happens when one person chooses another. Inbring: to bring in: to bring into

court. To court. Courtship. Daily to declare love. Quotidian. Fever. Recurring daily.

Addition of one person to another. Overlapping and underlapping. Repeated

subtraction until only love is left. Not this or that. Just love. The minimum number of

persons necessary for love. Quite. Completely, wholly, entirely. Enough fully to justify

the use of the word, love. Exactly, indeed, yes. And despite what you’ve decided.

Against how your mind is made up. Beyond what you have resolved. Without

preference. Without alternatives. There is no choice. The context is always what is.

What is chosen is the perception of this. What happens when one wishes. Love is the

cause. That which produces an effect. That by or through which anything happens.

Brings in. Within which no choice is possible or necessary. You did not choose but

were brought about. Taken up by all means by one more interchangeable with ‘each

other’. Taken all together. Different. Distinct. But one more of the same kind. Also

loving. Also loved. What you chose was not the person but love itself. By one’s own

action something that represents a judicious belief in the world. A form of inflexion in

which another is the self. In which one bends with grace to tend. Where all is brought

in. Is courted. Among. By the way of. Expressing the relation to everything that

surrounds. Love being because of and the cause of. One person holding another. One

being the other’s possibility. Repeated addition until love is created. Not this or that.

This and that. Enough. Just.




MTC Cronin’s twelfth book is The Flower, The Thing (UQP, 2006). Her 2001 book, Talking to Neruda’s Questions, has recently appeared in a bilingual Italian/English translation (Braitan, Italy, 2005). A forthcoming collection, Irrigations (of the Human Heart) ~ fictional essays on the poetics of living, art & love will be out with Ravenna Press, USA, in 2006

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