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It was dusk, the light hesitating and a murmer in the wind, when the deer, exhausted, turned to look at me, an arrow in its side. Though I pity dreamers, taking a thread and weaving it upon the loom of Self—the secret, gaudy, wonderful new cloth—, I will tell the end of the story. His shoulder was torn, the joint held by one sinew, which I severed with the blade of the arrow, so when he ran there were no impediments. The black dogs that followed were swifter, their barking ancient, despicable. As he fell, his chest turned to breastplate, his one powerful arm covered with pagan signs. Nearly stupid in my waiting for what would happen next, each breath propelling me and him toward dust, I woke, the sheets soaked, heart fluttering—: When death comes into the sleeping room as through a tiny hole, like a rent in the Covenant, it hurts.

Inside the veins there are navies setting forth, Tiny explosions at the waterlines, And seagulls weaving in the wind of the salty blood. It is the morning. The country has slept the whole winter. Window seats were covered with fur skins, the yard was full Of stiff dogs, and hands that clumsily held heavy books. Now we wake, and rise from bed, and eat breakfast! Shouts rise from the harbor of the blood, Mist, and masts rising, the knock of wooden tackle in the sunlight. Now we sing, and do tiny dances on the kitchen floor. Our whole body is like a harbor at dawn; We know that our master has left us for the day.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground!   I shall walk softly there, And learn by going where I have to go. Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how? The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair; I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Great Nature has another thing to do To you and me; so take the lively air, And, lovely, learn by going where to go. This shaking keeps me steady. I should know. What falls away is always. And is near. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go.

A few companions had been doing too much talking beside the purple water. The troupe, panic-stricken, ran away, and I found I was incapable of following them. I stepped into the water and the depths turned luminous; faraway ferns could just be seen. The reflections of other dark plants stopped them rising to the surface. Red threads took on all sorts of shapes, caught in the invisible and doubtless powerful currents. A plaster-cast woman advancing caused me to make a gesture which was to take me far. Translated from the French

When those are the walkative stars That talked to the immediate prisoners themselves When those are the talkative stars That walked along the narrow sledge pathways Yet those are lines to another star That were to have been led for changelings Around a dark dreambox of another kind That houses our more talkative stars

To walk abroad is, not with eyes, But thoughts, the fields to see and prize; Else may the silent feet, Like logs of wood, Move up and down, and see no good Nor joy nor glory meet. Ev’n carts and wheels their place do change, But cannot see, though very strange The glory that is by; Dead puppets may Move in the bright and glorious day, Yet not behold the sky. And are not men than they more blind, Who having eyes yet never find The bliss in which they move; Like statues dead They up and down are carried Yet never see nor love. To walk is by a thought to go; To move in spirit to and fro; To mind the good we see; To taste the sweet; Observing all the things we meet How choice and rich they be. To note the beauty of the day, And golden fields of corn survey; Admire each pretty flow’r With its sweet smell; To praise their Maker, and to tell The marks of his great pow’r. To fly abroad like active bees, Among the hedges and the trees, To cull the dew that lies On ev’ry blade, From ev’ry blossom; till we lade Our minds, as they their thighs. Observe those rich and glorious things, The rivers, meadows, woods, and springs, The fructifying sun; To note from far The rising of each twinkling star For us his race to run. A little child these well perceives, Who, tumbling in green grass and leaves, May rich as kings be thought, But there’s a sight Which perfect manhood may delight, To which we shall be brought. While in those pleasant paths we talk, ’Tis that tow’rds which at last we walk; For we may by degrees Wisely proceed Pleasures of love and praise to heed, From viewing herbs and trees.

with relation to lives as women do now on screen in swimsuits or lacking (spread) cuts explanatory meta sequence to explain despite however obvious development at times as women may choose to take on new life subtracts interactions with circumstances unscripted: saussure’s course in linguistics (1916) emma goldman arrested for lecturing on birth control (1916) margaret sanger opens first U.S. birth control clinic (1916) the grocery store with relation to nielsen family air time women who say “I want” to that man with relation to hugh grant, middle-america and anything exotic episodes that develop character still rely upon episodic sequence films contain characters with real names bearing in mind demographic trends as like patterns of speech endorse seemingly radical character britain initiates daylight savings time (1916) watching the late show there are women who present answers to questions absurdly wrong what can be true when asked not to act like oneself

Walking across a field we are focused on at this time now, Judd. We are focusing on the act of walking across a field. We will focus our attention on this gesture of walking. We will act in the manner of moving our legs forward. We will press our heels to the grass while we are in the process of movement and we will extend our toes forward. We will bend our knees as the soles of our feet press against the grass. As our knees bend we will lift our opposite foot at the heel and we will push our bent leg forward across space. Our opposite leg will exist in space, bent at a ninety-degree angle, until it drops and our heel touches the grass first followed by the soles of our feet and lastly followed by our toes. At which point the heel of our opposite foot will lift and it will shift our point of balance. We will lift that heel and bend our legs. As we lift our opposite leg at a ninety-degree angle so that the top surfaces of our thighs are parallel to both the sky and the ground, we will shift our point of balance from the vertical and closer to a horizontal. We will shift our point of balance forward until our feet become pressed to the ground. At which point we will lift the heel of our opposite leg and draw our knee upward. We will focus our attention on neither where we are walking from, or to, at this time, but on the act of walking. There are many features to this. However we are focused on walking across a field at this time. We will focus our attention on this manner of walking. On neither speed nor duration, but on this gesture of walking across a field. Especially on this day with clouds. Whether we are walking in unison, it does not matter. And we will focus our attention on neither how long we have been walking nor how long it will continue, but on continuing this gesture in the manner of walking. We will focus on the way that it feels to be somewhat grounded despite walking steadily forward. We will focus on the way in which we are walking steadily forward. We will focus on the position of walking forward and its implications. We will focus on this position while we are walking. Whether we are walking in unison, it does not matter. We are focusing on walking across a field at this time now. We will focus on the manner in which we turn our heads periodically from side to side in discussion. We will focus our attention on the manner in which we have been speaking and the variations as to this. As to the manner, it does not matter, but rather its presence while we are focused on the act of walking across a field. In the manner of walking across a field now, we are walking in a direction forward while turning our heads at times toward each other. We will focus on this walking gesture and the expanse that surrounds our movement. We will focus on its many qualities. We will focus on its many qualities while walking across a field. We will focus on relation within this gesture of walking across a field. We will focus on this movement forward as we are walking across a field in relation. Whether we are walking in unison, it does not matter. With relation to fields, it is the movement that is most important.

Rain so dark I can’t get through— train going by in a hurry. The voice said walk or die, I walked,—the train and the voice all blurry. I walked with my bones and my heart of chalk, not even a splintered notion: days of thought, nights of worry,—lonesome train in a hurry.

walking down park amsterdam or columbus do you ever stop to think what it looked like before it was an avenue did you ever stop to think what you walked before you rode subways to the stock exchange (we can’t be on the stock exchange we are the stock exchanged) did you ever maybe wonder what grass was like before they rolled it into a ball and called it central park where syphilitic dogs and their two-legged tubercular masters fertilize the corners and side-walks ever want to know what would happen if your life could be fertilized by a love thought from a loved one who loves you ever look south on a clear day and not see time’s squares but see tall Birch trees with sycamores touching hands and see gazelles running playfully after the lions ever hear the antelope bark from the third floor apartment ever, did you ever, sit down and wonder about what freedom’s freedom would bring it’s so easy to be free you start by loving yourself then those who look like you all else will come naturally ever wonder why so much asphalt was laid in so little space probably so we would forget the Iroquois, Algonquin and Mohicans who could caress the earth ever think what Harlem would be like if our herbs and roots and elephant ears grew sending a cacophony of sound to us the parrot parroting black is beautiful black is beautiful owls sending out whooooo’s making love ... and me and you just sitting in the sun trying to find a way to get a banana tree from one of the monkeys koala bears in the trees laughing at our listlessness ever think its possible for us to be happy