Copyright 1977, 2000 e. blakemore
(Bards and dreaming)
The ground is a ship in Norway (#2)
(October 29, 1980, with revisions September 8. 2000. An earlier piece lost in manuscript piles somewhere, from about 1977-79 first uses the title phrase, recovered from a dream had in Oberlin, Ohio.)
There is so little to say about anything
Paint your face while you can. Piss the sky,
Piss in a river. Voices, voices
Steal poetry from those who would be your sisters.
See a tree see water what is it really?
It was paid to do this work. What was it before?
What can we get — what do we hope for?
There is no solitude
Crawl in a cave inside yourself
How do we describe the caves we hold inside?
The landscape where I have no land.
I remember. The ground is a ship in Norway.
The only Norway I will ever know is inside
It is somewhere south of the eye sockets
Where globes are hidden
Where the real map is stored.
What is left to the north is
A few songs. Not about trees
No Nature — no buildings — no concrete
(song from china)