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Endowment Arts & Letters Editorial Staff Learn about the MFA Program
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I am telling you
By: Jesse Lee Kercheval |
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in
a library, one book may hide another book as in a forest, one tree may hide another. That
is, if you are standing at the edge of the forest, your palms pressed against
that first tree & are looking deeper-- do
not step forward to see the next then
the next &
the next until
there are trees on every side trees
all around you, trees blocking out the sun & your
mother/father/sister/lover’s voice calling you. Before
you take that first step--Stop & think! (Remember
what happened to Snow White, also Hansel & Gretel, Little Red Riding
Hood--I could go on . . .) Learn
the lesson now. Instead of striding forward, say to yourself-- All
trees are trees. I don’t need to see another--none will have
golden leaves or
drop magic chestnuts or
talk or
be a druid god or enchanted wood nymph though some, I admit, may vary in small
detail like species. &
in the library, the one with all the books, don’t wander down the aisle
thinking that
the next book or
the next will be the one with everything worth knowing inside its slightly
different cover. Take
that first book. Take my word. The one closest
to the librarian closest
to the door then leave. If you just take one, it should be safe to go on
reading. (Though safer still to leave with no book & take no chance of getting lost in
someone else’s forest.) Also,
in life, one lover may conceal another so when you think it is time for you to take one, don’t be tempted
to try many. Better
to trust fate & take the first one then be faithful so you will not know what you are missing. Let’s
review-- Do
not wander into the forest. Do
not drift between the stacks. Do
not drive up to Make-out Point or down Old Lover’s Lane or you will lose
yourself & once lost, who do you know that has ever made it back? At
least unchanged (Rip Van Winkle? Bluebeard’s many wives?). So-- Be
here when you’re here. If you are always looking over
your lover’s shoulder out
the window at
the TV while making love-- it
will be as if you had wandered into that damn forest I tried so hard to keep
you from or
read the book beyond the first book, the one I told you to leave alone & & &
you will end up as alone as
unhappy as the poet warning you. It’s
not a life to hope for-- writing books made of butchered forests. If
you go on like this, you may end up a poet with no lover (as I have none,
though I
have seen a lot of trees). Listen-- I
know it’s hard to want only what you have even
the family dog, sleeping by the couch, twitches in her sleep dreaming
of rabbits &
more rabbits &
then more rabbits still. But
heed my warning--do not drift. I
know I
know what I am asking is impossible. But--as
your mother, financial advisor, lover too old for you to ever want or have,
your librarian, your local forest manager--I ask you: Be
the tree. Be
the book. Be
the one who loves & is forgiven. |
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Always for the first time I see you returning at some hour of the night
to a house at right angles to my
window-- a wholly imaginary house There--the second from the
corner In the morning I see you eating soup In the evening I see you make toast as if you are living time
backward as if I were too In truth and in my heart the closer I come to you the more your red door
sings to me of your unknown rooms
beyond the one I see but if you stopped me in
the street I would not know what to
say. I am not prepared for you
to speak except into your telephone Alone you are silent as I
am as our street is this hour
of the night In a frenzy, all the stars
swarm in now that the moon is in bed It is you and the stars in
that too long hour too bright for sleep too dim for sleep I find myself watching you always for the first time |
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