Image: Spot and me upon the landscape
Landscape & Me with Spot
(owed to Vincent, Salvador, and Spot)
a stream of consciousness runs
through the landscape
Dali has pitchforked brain cells:
little girl with dog in photo
off to my left, and Vincent in Saint-Rémy
1889 look a long way off,
you look for yourself in the landscape
you are not walking across the meadow
& you are not marked on any hill so
I insist the clouds have gobbled you up
those great Vincent-swirled cotton-tails
that crawl up the hills, over the blue paint stroked
open legs not my legs
my legs are off to the left under the dress
of that little girl reaching out for her dog
trying to smile at the blasted camera
the sun hurting her damaged little eyes
the sun always hurting her little eyes,
sitting on grass always hurting her, the fat little arms, chubby little cheeks always hurting
that poor little girl is not in the landscape either
she is hiding inside the cottage
in the middle of some painting: kissing
your luscious lips kiss over, kissed-off she runs to Dali
d
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t i m e
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The following entry is from my unpublished memoir “My Life in Little Stories”:
49. Spot
My mom and I were outside walking in the yard one warm summer morning, and we saw what we thought was a hog lying outside the gate. We walked over to look more closely and discovered it was not a hog, but a Dalmatian dog. We named him Spot and kept him for the next twelve or so years, until his death.
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