"One of the most significant aspects of the heretic movement is the high status it assigned to women. As Gioacchino Volpe put it, in the Church women were nothing, but here they were considered equal; they had the same rights as men, and could enjoy a social life and mobility (wandering, preaching) that nowhere else was available to them in the Middle Ages. In the heretical sects, above all among the Cathars and Waldenses, women had the right to administer the sacraments, preach, baptize and even acquire sacerdotal orders. It is reported that Waldes split from the orthodoxy because his bishop refused to allow women to preach, and it is said of the Cathars that they worshipped a female figure, the Lady of Thought, that influenced Dante’s conception of Beatrice."
— Sylvia Federici on “Women and Heresy” in Caliban and the Witch
Are collisions entrances? -Stacy Doris.
is being in a slump with a person / with a person you love / a kind of collision? / a soft collision. you thrash / and curl up.
i keep thinking bout what it means to be an enthusiast. i’m not thinking in terms of “peP.” rather determination / persistence to live as excavated / beatingcells. where enthusiasm gets difficult for me is determining what can be reconfigured / given attention because of an energy / a curiosity / a matter and what is lost to something like an inevitability or my own bloated over-romanticisms** / blood pies. what all this has to do with having successful relationshipsfriendships / what even is that / how twisted up that is in fog glass / shame broth / or spinning hiss.
a picture of shame broth from izzy.
n came home and said the word COMMONS. and this is also the question. what is common? / what is a commons?
maybe it’s more like how flowering occurs here. constantly w/ no schedule. terrifying / impossible to pin down / location and pace wise. every time i run by the park, i check the figs.
"Security heats what it protects / Into bursting." -Stacy Doris.
i put an avocado on top of the fridge last night / thinking it wouldn’t be ready / thinking some rain would have to pass through before it could be soft enough. but it was already perfect in its mush-ness this morning / this kind of decay or rapidity / somehow i think of a parrot / or what i mean is / a bright foreign-ness / excelling in the
balled air. balled air. balled air. balled air.
"Living somewhere silences." -Stacy Doris
not right now. none of that. right now living somewhere vibrates an eruption of hunger / digestion / something cyclical and divergent / an enthusiasm / an enthusiasm has me misreading my own body constantly / trying to visit how it’s ruffling or drilled.
i remembered something else about leos.
i was at the winn dixie / buying beer. the cash girl / the girl cash looked at my license and said, “oh you’re a leo, too. i never get to meet other leos.” i nodded / thinking about species / species of smelling / shredded silver. “are you mean and selfish?” she asked me in a serious way. i felt totally pitted by that question / by the possibility of its truth / am i thing that pushes things off roofs? i am always thinking about how much power repulsion has / how we’re wrong to think its opposite is attraction / attractive / attractiveness. what feels opposite is capacity / a vital capacity / peeling an orange with a waterfall. what does wash away / do i / will i have enough?
**our coagulated romanticisms / i’m reading the circle by dave eggers right now, too, and the main character meets what will be a love interest and says / describes the man / grazes at the man as “unlike anyone she’d ever met before.” y total othering / this total escape from other people? what is more / where is more into or close to the sudden feeling here? i felt a contraction when i met you / like i was contracting a / further wildness / a sparkly muzzle.
bhanu is on a summer hiatus and this makes me desperate / thinking. how to be resumed / how to feed the dark lake / where are the onions apples / itching lace for the sea wolf? whole cheese breads, says b, in a letter, get dropped down in there. do i dig for myself? lay like the cat / a soft taco in the window?
there is a line in michael earl craig’s talkativeness.
"i somehow know / the beef dumpling when I touch it."
the beef dumpling used to be a banana shake. the nine year old girl used to be ten. i know this because / versions.
n is frustrated when he asks me, what is editing? i’m re-reading a part of bhanu’s blog, while editing this part of my book about / lying down / about sitting and peeing while desperate / thinking w / J Ashbery in my hands / about the face and its relationship to lying down / what happens to it. how to reject the face / for further receptors / more boiling herbs.
bhanu is upset about how the schizophrenia / in her book / appears in reviews. i’m a poet, she insists. you’re missing it / what happened in the area / i’m a poet. i feel like i understand / what she means / i know what she means when she says schizophrenia. i don’t think she’s talking about the disease / but a way of seeing living movement / of feeling it as if you were / a constant unhelpful unearthing / a blossoming. a stupid abandoned beach house / whose shape / still evokes an unusual intensity. i remember how surprised i was when my students asked if she had “the disease.” i feel like i understand when she says she can’t simply secrete the story into the space. there isn’t that / security / there’s only fragments / ribbons flushing. the pleasurable poison of tomato plant smell, says b. that kind of sleeping potion. after i finished my paper on bhanu, zurita, and jabes. i took it to the beach and cried.
-Ashbery is a Leo, too.
-Yr eyes r Kind of Similar, says E. She includes a pic in which J’s hair is “very leo.”
the best part of reading in the dark pit in the warehouse / art district of this part of florida / i drip in? the way the echo hurt. i lost the shell from my necklace / i didn’t notice how light / the different colored chains / got. i heard you are excessive, said a girl / with a green streak in her hair. oh, but it takes so little to be considered excessive, i said.
this is a dragonfly / a beast that visited us a few days ago / isn’t he a python? / or maybe the remaining bone of the megafauna armadillos that used to glean here.