Requiescat, Self-Portrayal at Samhain: Spiritisim is Annunciation, You Thought You Were An Opera Singer
You are engaging a meditation on your death. Perhaps you broke the law, but it was an old law, a lost aria, unenforced. You are held in the residue and ascetic disaffiliation. Sleep’s epitaph, your eyes guarded by sixpence, silvered shine of wolfhounds. At the feast, they set a place for you among the dead. Cold stars languish under your crane-skin dress. Hornet’s nest kept in your hair’s gust. Inexplicable speech. Moth light over gray meadow. You taste the hum in the walls where mule stood over the glass riverbank. Sparrow stasis. For each animal there is a trade. There is a wormhole upon the forehead, bonfire constellations, maggot conscience. You’d been walked between bonfire’s remains, the dappled throng. Through the small barn window you saw the blistered flank of the fur-licked cattle.
Belief in the body is attempted, form found without words, form given. Leaving the mind starts out as a little joke. Here, Spiritism is a woman riding a colt; the space toward which she is moving is an immeasurable dark. How did you think things would improve? She gives night the permission to erase the host. Your architectures had always been enough, and perfectly therein.
- Guest Post, Maureen Alsop: Anemomancy - October 12, 2017
- SR Pod/Vod Series: Maureen Alsop - May 27, 2014
- Guest Post, Maureen Alsop: But First There Was the Body, Then the Mind, Then the Mind Letting Go of the Body - April 5, 2014
5 thoughts on “Guest Blog Post, Maureen Alsop: Requiescat, Self-Portrayal at Samhai”
Lovely – the words evoke conjure magic.
Entering the wormholes of meditation on death and immeasurable dark, we try to find words, call back to one another, leave a personal history.
Wonderful text, Maureen.
Alsop is a hind let loose; she giveth goodly words.
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