print and annotate this guy 
! 
two maker s                 reach out 
        their 
        inquiries 
across the how 
                      of languages 

          side by side becoming 
          lecturers of 
          friendship 
and so on and so on beginning 
                                    tantra, 
                                                loaning hymns, 

                                                less than 
                        coast elapsed lovers engulfing 
                    hungry loneliness, 
                                                older than 

                             making a poem in the garden

                                     or the printing press, 

                    washing it all down, 

   wandering outside weather 
     in a loop of the sofa, re
                 living 
                 coffee fantasy 
                 disco 
                                         blazing 


                                        full bloom 
                                           house 

                  stretch into eternity geography under my feet,    
                                                                                               I can 

                  see small eddies        and
                                                                      whirlpools 

                                                                 the 
                                                            kitchen 
                                        music blessing 
elder 
and the 
                               art of dawn 
                               fine
                               ally 
                                        break
                                     ing 
                                        boat break
                                        fast 
                                        revolution
                                        aries 
              brightly night wide in
              side the laundry room, 

water shimmering 
                                 grace velvet 
                                     protector 

               of 

        honey
        suckle, 
        southern dreams,
        moon 
        perfume, 
        mailbox flowers, 

the familiar catapult 
             spill 
         over  

familiar familiar, familiar 
Tómales, familiar 
                   center red
             wood time in 
             soft sutra sil
                      ver hills 
                                  as 
                                 her
 


each of these words has a round crispness to them, a cut-grass envelopyness resembling those last couple drops of water that fall from the screen at the outpour of the sink faucet. writing about this poem is a cacade for me. the space pouring around each word is just as much a participant, if not more so, than the arrangement of letters into sounds.  sil, of the forest, woodland, to leap, to jump, to shine, pebble, silence. 

writing about this poem is writing about its mentor. Cole Heinowitz was an alive set of meolecules fastened to grasp the sparkling tangibilty of feeling and being. I left my semester with Cole with a remarkable gift: the feeling that everything: fridge, maple, sidewalk, letters, chairs, were companions. And in this, how, possibly, could I ever be alone? Atoms became molecules drenched in honey and red dirt. My roomate, Sam, became a magician who stood under the “idea light”---a bare, ridiculous bulb hanging about 1.5 feet from the cieling by the pantry in our kitchen. The light you turn after sneaking down the stairs to get a midnight bowl of cereal. I understood the reason my eyes fell to the bottom third of sight when I run, a scientifically-proven centering of the nervous system and of the mind, and could hear the musical pattern of my feet making contact with the ground more proufoundly. 

Now that Cole is gone, 

I feel the electricity of this practice stikingly. The potential is lingering in every object I touch. 

This poem began in response to an assignment in Poetry as Coexistence, Collabaorting with the Non-Human. This class seemed to be one of Cole’s dearest entitities, a project and a co-creation that got more and more alive.