are you ok daddy

scattering the sheets of paper over the lake i sent out boats to gather them in an order only you could understand. only then could i allow you to read the pages as i wrote them. yes only then. that would be appropriate.

treasuring the murmer of this breaking heart i begin to sing another song than the one i wanted to sing. i repeat the lyrics over and over again. missing a word here. a phrase there. i know you will remember it earlier than you thought possible.

guaranteed a gift - i sold everything that i posessed to a man who now wears my clothes. they say he truly has grace and that is a measure of distance. i sat waiting near a rock in a valley you know well from the geographical guides i left behind

closing my eyes, sensing shadows through flames. taking careful steps into a country i will never be able to forget. something is missing, only you can bring back.

a hundred horses pound outside my house in a provincial city cut off from a world i knew by heart. every which way. look that up in the journals. that is your work. i place my head by the door listening to the sound of stamping feet. they are waiting to perform a dance i have choreographed. i am not eager for this rendezvous.

presenting a paper to the colloquium who have come to discuss the details. i am ashamed that i cannot, sense syllables, get the words right. perhaps i never have. on this day i am likely to find them. that is my belief. maybe i should stop staring at statues on my way to meetings. perhaps i should dance in a park like a chinese master without a student to save him. perhaps that is my story. perhaps. who can tell.

knowing the knot i am tying i stretch a principle or two to understand invention but i am no wiser than i was before the flood. you can take that as gospel.

she came to me and sang, it was the body that i was writing and that i was condemenred to this exercise. i laughed with her then i fell further than you can imagine.

you wanted to talk so we went to the water but when we arrived, we danced. we never spoke a word. it was a meeting. it has no other name in this language. or any other. perhaps angels are singing, but do not mistake the screams of those with enormous longing with the wails of the satisfied. that would be a terrible mistake. a catastrophe.

when will you go out and ring the bells. i have been waiting for you to do that ever since i arrived and that was a long time ago. many people have died since then and i am eager to join their number. that is not pessimism but optimism with the facts.

they say you are going to find me. i am most interested in my own whereabouts. this place where i stay is so far from the roads and rivers - i do not know how you will get here. when you do - i wonder how you will recognise me since everyone here is going in the same direction. that is to say we are all falling. that is the first condition for standing up straight for whatever that is worth.

Painting Title 'are you ok daddy' © Luciano Prisco 2019 acrylic cinders fence railing on canvas panels

Christopher Barnet

Christopher Barnet

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