What do Register tapes tell us about ourselves?....I am not sure this is a poem ....it feels more like random words along a vague line of thought...arriving where....I'm not sure...maybe it is a poem after all
Thinking with a marvelous register tape of life
From a distance all events swirled in blue
What was bought and what was sold
Who did what to whom
What is the place and power of things
Do we feel like slaves to them
All the things we do to /for THINGS
makes me think they are the ones owning us
In the store someone orders them up...is that the sex
they have to be received like babies
we call that "OB receiving...right?
Someone unboxes them...be careful
lines them up on shelves like....kids in school
where they wait for someone to take them home
(now they feel like orphans....they're selected
not forced on someone)
When we get them we use them
Do people ever use their kids?
or ignore them....nah....never happen to a human... right?
I have seen those tapes back at the store
mostly numbers....a few letters thrown in
(much like this poem...huh)
One thing a tape always shows is the price
what we paid for something.
I thought about all the things
we bought, moved, dusted, boxed
stored, moved, paid storage rent on
vainly tried to sell at garage sales.
Nouns have always bothered me
People -Places & things
People spend so much time taking care of things
better than they take care of people sometimes
some things are harder to part with than the loved one
why?........is it more permanent?
I said one time that people are places
I DO believe that....just like I believe that a memory is not a thing
But I cherish some of them in such a way
they defy nownship they are somehow more verbal
Now I really don't expect many of you to read all this dribble
But there may be some...THING in here
worth thinking about
or maybe it is not a THING at all.
There are lots of important questions in here. Like, 'What is the place and power of things'. What a powerful question. Things have powers and number places (an order in our lives? who orders it..who decrees). I remember you said people are places. I think I used that idea in a poem- it was just too powerful. Ideas are the free things we cherish in life. And friends are the places we go to cherish ourselves again, when we occasionally forget just how wonderful we are, we can look in the tyes of our friend and see ourselves shining there. This is definitely a really real poem- because it made me think.