Aaron Boothby :: Machine

Machine (Plaisir)

                               was sleeping
met
not dream that’s reception or production

                                                 the residue?

there was an I I did not name her she did not decide to drink of you

                       find a word        perhaps
failing to form in its wake or echo a category
opened the door closed it descended
bright sun but     bare leaves tell all

               what does
a word leave      what’s a red leaf     then a sea of them
because      vast     must be crossed
why

already      are here           left of you          I
false             like his time is my time       our time

in the shallow water she holds me     drift     current would
hear that song           whales to each other we
call it song

why call      anything else?

I take what I need into my mouth                 perhaps more
than I need
the rest stays          at rest            he’s she     uttering
what dismantles you composes something else or doesn’t

               belief     meant to         want        he carries
a flame across     still water


Machine (Lunar)

little temptest
doesn’t know
self     other
how is it
waves do not always say
the same thing?

in a breeze the leaves waver
not there     yet

       vaulted concrete      steel rail       glass

hopeless sky window of what is there
cannot       touch       no
not ever

bright orb of light    dark season     that this
stands to bless     erotics          chunk
blasted coagulate       torn once of earth

no thing says anything only the speaker
we say      denotes assurance of repetition

stasis
mimicry
death                   but
what’s dead not still     inert      not same

mimic what I suppose my composition to be
maintain a stasis     distrupted
glass    maybe?           even that     material
filled by that which is just
passing
contain           contained

you’ll startle me I’ll appear      one moment
to be a doe       through water
little
firework


Machine (Ahistorical)

        seed blackened     burns the earth
takes                                                            takes
named she to make it easier      she takes
no she to name
invented               saw one day       whole
or fragment
name later                     takes what’s needed
absolute lack of question     doubt
without hesitancy
tooth       branch      flesh       soil
methods of accumulation     extraction

imagine a one   make this easier     took
no asking              not ended well    in fact
without end      garden is something enclosed
tended to
she    mishap of name      a sphere
circumference everywhere
fence it to find it tooth    claw    extract it

      trees surge     how     added to themselves
little to say so much to feel       less, hidden?
for staying unsaid    not still    material

there is an I     make this easier      reaches out
her     make this easier       falters

               never a thing in what     talk about
thrum calling monotonous resonance autonomous
sort of sings
why should what is cruel be also beautiful?
rain on black stone         absence
was there           is not


Machine (Plaisir) also appears in print.