{"id":5043,"date":"2014-10-26T08:21:05","date_gmt":"2014-10-26T08:21:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sporkpress.com\/?p=5043"},"modified":"2014-10-26T08:21:05","modified_gmt":"2014-10-26T08:21:05","slug":"elegy-for-matt-sean-patrick-hill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/2014\/10\/26\/elegy-for-matt-sean-patrick-hill\/","title":{"rendered":"Elegy for Matt || Sean Patrick Hill"},"content":{"rendered":"

Elegy for Matt<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The body is<\/p>\n

conduit<\/p>\n

is therefore<\/p>\n

conducive<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

conductive<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

channels tides<\/p>\n

into<\/p>\n

the sluice and slough<\/p>\n

organs<\/p>\n

of desire<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

of that which wishes to be<\/p>\n

carried on<\/p>\n

passed on<\/p>\n

not remarked upon<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

it glides<\/p>\n

gilds<\/p>\n

guides the hand into each<\/p>\n

other\u2019s hands<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

we are passed this way<\/p>\n

and live<\/p>\n

this way onward<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The body<\/p>\n

comes down from hills<\/p>\n

follows<\/p>\n

the creek which<\/p>\n

carries its own<\/p>\n

wind<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and road<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

it is always on roads<\/p>\n

we find ourselves<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

always on roads we find<\/p>\n

ourselves dying<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Look how many dead<\/p>\n

each day<\/p>\n

lie in our roads<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I say in <\/em>not on<\/em><\/p>\n

as road is our river now<\/p>\n

caught<\/p>\n

like leaves<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

in the undercarriage<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

think<\/p>\n

you may have crossed<\/p>\n

the bend<\/p>\n

or glanced at the shoulder<\/p>\n

where<\/p>\n

you will die<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

or did<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

as Matt did passing<\/p>\n

a place<\/p>\n

made emblem<\/p>\n

made<\/p>\n

holy<\/p>\n

made whole now we shall go<\/p>\n

there<\/p>\n

and keeping close<\/p>\n

this knowledge<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

might lay our flowers<\/p>\n

there<\/p>\n

at the foot of the hill<\/p>\n

might bow there<\/p>\n

as this is the place where one is thrown<\/p>\n

from the body<\/p>\n

or a star<\/p>\n

gone<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

supernova<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

exploded outwards<\/p>\n

we can see this<\/p>\n

being<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

sensitive<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

hearing the long hiss<\/p>\n

rain<\/p>\n

under tires<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

listen close<\/p>\n

leaves under axle<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Here<\/p>\n

incredibly you followed<\/p>\n

the path<\/p>\n

of a glacier<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

pulling back the land as one<\/p>\n

tugs<\/p>\n

a blanket to the chin<\/p>\n

before<\/p>\n

night truly sets<\/p>\n

its foot<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

at your throat<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You might hear<\/p>\n

as I have<\/p>\n

camped in the evening beside a river<\/p>\n

voices<\/p>\n

of fishermen<\/p>\n

in the willows<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and gone to find them found<\/p>\n

nothing<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

there is only river now<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

you find<\/p>\n

it was always river talking<\/p>\n

to itself<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I found in my mind<\/p>\n

a gravity<\/p>\n

uninterrupted<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

a grief<\/p>\n

moving forward to the glaciated<\/p>\n

turn<\/p>\n

creek murmur<\/p>\n

highway sigh<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and imagined flowers there<\/p>\n

already<\/p>\n

imagined I would go<\/p>\n

home<\/p>\n

to where Matt was born<\/p>\n

and died<\/p>\n

which is to say born<\/p>\n

in me<\/p>\n

now that he has awakened<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and opened<\/p>\n

my eyes<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

which must be why we leave<\/p>\n

flowers<\/p>\n

among the alluvium<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

daisies<\/p>\n

day\u2019s eyes<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

bits of broken<\/p>\n

glass<\/p>\n

along the shoulder<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

shining<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n