Christina Murphy‘s poetry appears in a number of anthologies and journals, including MiPOesias, PANK, Poetry Quarterly, Contemporary World Poetry, Blue Fifth Review, POOL: A Journal of Poetry, Boston Literary Magazine, and Counterexample Poetics. Her work has received “Special Mention” for a Pushcart Prize.
Forever Brief Borders: A Dialogue In Situ
Gertrude and Pablo as objects objectified by their window discussing street scenes as objects artistic / linguistic in which the noun and the line roam in the pastures / mountains of the mind in romantic illusions embraced.
Why is it that description is linear and not logarithmic? Lines are linear but aspire to be curves. The world is not a plane but a sphere and flat words flat lines do not know the essence.
Ah, Pablo, that is the beauty of the Cube to you, eh?
I know words should not be flat, Pablo, but in a chase of themselves like the round and round and round of the world solid yet fluid with echoes. Repetition always says more as there is no context no context no context—do you see what I mean?
Numbers, lines, words moving on into the infinite. Of course I see what you mean, Gertrude, which is why I have no faith in only three dimensions.
Let me pour you a glass of red red wine into a glass of clear clear nothingness without reflection. No you no me no nothing but transparent nothingness obscured by the redness of the red red wine.
Red is the primary color of hurts and wounds and love and desire. I shall drink to you, Gertrude, and all of that. Blue is a primary color too and one I believe in for the subtleties of sorrow and longing.
Primary words in language wear out from too much use like “nice” which means nothing any more just as “delightful” and “hello.” But put a castanet against a radiator and the sounds, the clamor say more than all the hellos in the nice nice world.
Shall we drink to that in our nice nice delightful way, Gertrude?
Indeed, Pablo, we shall, for the world is round and a rose is a rose and a blue period can end a red sentence of the wounded heart.
But should it?
Questions questions, answers answers No and Yes and Perhaps. It is all a dance, see?
Indeed, indeed, just as I see you, dear Gertrude, the Cube and Cubist dream of my heart in primary passions within the beauty of starlight forever pure in the blue, blue night.