Sze - Quipu

Here you can read online Sze - Quipu full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. City: Port Townsend, year: 2013, publisher: Copper Canyon Press, genre: Detective and thriller. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

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Book:
Quipu
Author:
Sze / Arthur
Publisher:
Copper Canyon Press
Genre:
Books / Detective and thriller
Year:
2013
City:
Port Townsend
Rating:
5 / 5
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Quipu: summary, description and annotation

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Sze brings together disparate realms of experience--astronomy, botany, anthropology, Taoism-and observes their correspondences with an exuberant attentiveness.- The New Yorker Szes poems seem dazzled and haunted by patterns.- The Washington Post Quipu was a tactile recording device for the pre-literate Inca, an assemblage of colored knots on cords. In his eighth collection of poetry, Arthur Sze utilizes quipu as a unifying metaphor, knotting and stringing luminous poems that move across cultures and time, from elegy to ode, to create a precarious splendor.;Note to the Reader; Dedication; Epigraph; Before Sunrise; Earthshine; Ox-Head Dot; Syzygy; La Bajada; Spring Smoke; Haircutting; Lobed Bowl with Black Glaze and White Scalloped Rim; Quipu; Aqueous Gold; Solstice Quipu; Inflorescence; Oracle-Bone Script; The Welt; In the Living Room; Acanthus; The Thermos; Ice Line; The Chromatics of Dawn; Thermodynamics; X and O; The Angle of Reflection Equals the Angle of Incidence; Earthstar; Didyma; Notes; About the Author.

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Note to the Reader Copper Canyon Press encourages you to calibrate your settings by using the line of characters below, which optimizes the line length and character size: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Pellentesque euismod magna Please take the time to adjust the size of the text on your viewer so that the line of characters above appears on one line, if possible. When this text appears on one line on your device, the resulting settings will most accurately reproduce the layout of the text on the page and the line length intended by the author. Viewing the title at a higher than optimal text size or on a device too small to accommodate the lines in the text will cause the reading experience to be altered considerably; single lines of some poems will be displayed as multiple lines of text. If this occurs, the turn of the line will be marked with a shallow indent. Thank you.

We hope you enjoy these poems. This e-book edition was created through a special grant provided by the Paul G. Allen Family Foundation. Copper Canyon Press would like to thank Constellation Digital Services for their partnership in making this e-book possible.For Carol QUIPU \'k-(,)p\ n [Sp quipo, fr. Quechua khipu] (1704): a device made of a main cord with smaller varicolored cords attached and knotted and used by the ancient Peruvians (as for calculating) Merriam-Websters Collegiate Dictionary

Before Sunrise

The myriad unfolds from a progression of strokes one, ice, corpse, hair, jade, tiger. Unlocking a gate along a barbed-wire fence, I notice beer cans and branches in the acequia. There are no white pear blossoms by the gate, no red poppies blooming in the yard, no clustered by the walk, butbean, goldtheres the intricacy of a moment whenwind, three-legged incense cauldron I begin to walk through a field with cow pies toward the Pojoaque River, sense deer, yellow, rat.

I step through water, go up the arroyo, find a dark green magpie feather. This is a time whenblood in my piss, ache in nose and teeth I sense tortoise, flute where there is no sound, wake to human bones carved and strung into a loose apron.

Fuck you, fuck you, he repeated as he drove down the dirt road

while tamarisk branches scraped the side of the pickup;

what scrapes in the mind as it dilates to darkness?

Jodido, he winced and turned up the whites of his eyes;

What comes from darkness, I strike with darkness;

who hears a night-blooming cereus

unfold a white blossom by the windowsill?

crackle of flames in the fireplace;

lapping of waves against rocks

as a manta ray flips and feeds on plankton;

the gasp when he glanced down at the obituaries;

the gasp when she unwrapped flecked rice paper to find a letterpress broadside;

spurt of match into gold as he lights white beeswax candles;

she is running her hair between his toes;

he is rubbing her nipples with his palms;

What comes from brightness, I strike with brightness;

his ankles creaked as he tiptoed to the bathroom;

waking to a cat chewing on a mouse in the dark.

Hiking up a trail in the Manoa Valley arboretum, he motions with his hand to stop as he tries to distinguish whether a red-whiskered or red-vented bulbul has just landed on a branch. I spot a macadamia nut on the ground, glance up into an adjacent tree and am shocked by two enormous jackfruit suspended from the trunk. Revelation never comes as a fern uncoiling a frond in mist; it comes when I trip on a root, slap a mosquito on my arm. We go on, but stop when gnats lift into a cloud as we stumble into a bunch of rose apples rotting on the ground.

Although we continue to a dead end where water runs down a sheer rock, the mind stops here: here Amanita muscarias release a cloud of spores into cool August air; here lovers make earthshine on a waxing crescent moon; here the phone rings and I learn of a suicide, a pinhole grows into an eclipse; here water drips as I descend into a sloping black lava tube.

Say teeth; say gnawed his teeth in his sleep; say each spring he scraped peeling blue paint off the windowsill; say the ocean flickers; say a squiggly chalk line screeching down a blackboard opens a black rift; say on a float house yellow cedar smoke rises in the woodstove; say burn; say crumpled white papers ripple then burst into yellow twists of flame; say parallel lines touch in the infinite; say peel; say stoplight screech go green laugh; say screech, rip, slam, thud, body scrapes, bleeds to bone; say hyena; say bobcat stripped of skin; say a black cricket chirps in a corner of the room; say hang; say ox shoulder hangs off hook; say trimming roses, she slashed her left wrist; say shit-smear hair-sway leaf-gold ooze; say crack; say breaking a wineglass in a white napkin recovers a sliver of original light; say egg-white eyeball splash; say rinse; say bend to earth, find a single stalk budding gold.

He hanged himself with his belt in the bosque is no longer a whip that reddens and flays the skin. Donkey piss, he once crackedbut who knows how the light sizzled and burned a hole that gnawed and gnawed so that the more he twisted the more he convulsed into a black pitch? Orange daylilies are blooming along the driveway; long-stalked delphiniums are bending to earth. A firework explodes in white gold then bursts into a green shimmer. He leaves teeth marks on her neck; she groans and shows the whites of her eyes.

When a car rushes by on a wet road, he hears a laborer throw sand against a tilted screen and realizes twenty-three years ago he threw sand against a tilted screen. Now, when he strokes the tendons of her left wrist, she sighs. They are now nowhere everywhere nonesuch; they are not look back time but full moon first light.

She said he said moon in his sleep;

when he looked through the potbellied telescope,

the light of the full moon made him wince;

he had to gaze into darkness

and then saw from Mare Cognitum to Mare Serenitatis;

the mind aches to see at such distance such definition;

when she heard the barking dog,

she shined a flashlight and spotted a porcupine on the roof;

as you would spotlight a deer;

a snake slides under the redwood boardwalk by the kitchen;

he kisses her shoulders,

rubs the soles of her feet;

the mind aligns such slivers;

say dragonfly, quartz, cattail, tuning fork, wave;

say earthstar bursting into alpine air;

say c2;

say even the sacred barley drink separates if it is not stirred,

and see how, stirred, one can find repose.

Sipping mint tea in the ebbing heat of the day, I recollect how we stumbled onto a raccoon squashed between boards leaning against a fence, tadpoles wriggling at the edge of a pond. On the living-room table, thirty-six peonies in a vase dry and become crepe-paper light to touch. Yesterday you watered blue chamisa along the county road, while I watered desert grass under the willow.

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