m y s e l f

a book
its secrets, trapdoors:
words, the pictures with the moving eyes
each sliding recess in the tongued
constructions of its pages
bound in marbled covers
scuffd & veined

its faces, volumes
shelves of symbol
paradox, complaint:
the meaningless lent out
as freely as the meaningful
the sheaves of ribald songs as freely
as the lives of saints

its features, fractal images
in wood-pulp & in dye
the panelled walls the doors of ivory
the spiral staircases
the ladders on their wheels & rails
the indexes the catalogues
the archives & the record-books

births marriages & deaths
the great year's texts
their mathematics & their grand geometries
their botany their wild zoologies:
this library
its halls & garrets, miles & forests
reams unspoilt & rotten

everything: the whole to you
till language is forgotten

video screen showing only noise
gordon kennedy : a drunk man looks at the thistle hotel gordon kennedy : the conjure box gordon kennedy : my lips laid cold gordon kennedy : the face of things
gordon kennedy : myself gordon kennedy : inspiration gordon kennedy : northman gordon kennedy : hillside stream