I leave the fig effects their monetary sum; weight doesn’t reflect the man
the farther they got out of the circle of light ruled by the giant
moon. It called to mind how I noticed the exact same thing
showed up for work in offices and stores, scores of police
officers were back on the streets and honking, sprawling
traffic jams reappeared at major intersections
‘There was so much television you began to feel lost in it.’
Information outpaced context, everyone agreed. The television
war began with orange bombs bursting against the black
Baghdad sky, tanks rolling through the desert unopposed
He pried up the rock, hoping to turn back the tide of nationalism.
Who could listen to the smug man smirk
about questionable victories? “You’re free to move about the country,”
the airline claims, even if you’re not free, even if others
want you to move your questions, your skepticism, to another country
A world-class photo opportunity, dramatically orchestrated, two tank factories.
What is the point of the imagery, pivot, stand aside, let that moment pass?
What jumped out at me, something unsaid, sells this roadmap. Laboring
under a media circus, like a handoff through the metal detector, with too little
universal axis, the places we were successful in growing democracy
pounce on economic issues, thinking outside the oval, not a triumph of costume
Earlier work had shown that in young monkeys
some neurons fired only for horizontal patterns,
while others responded only to vertical
or to diagonal patterns. In older monkeys,
however, the neurons fired almost randomly, suggesting
the brain cells had a diminished ability
to distinguish shapes and motions
from 7 x 7, Otoliths 2010. I was asked recently to explain these poems. I've done so in an interview with Jeff Hansen:
Hansen: All the poems in 7x7 take their name from a card from a standard playing deck. How does this randomness fit with the formal discontinuities in other parts of the poems?
Hill: I cannot recall if I chose playing cards to title the poems before or after other aspects of the project in place (ultimately each title corresponded to the card I slid from the diminishing deck). One of the 7s in 7 x 7 represents the number of days in a week. Thus the first day of the week has one line, the second day two lines, etc. (I have used the seven days of the week before-see The Week, The Runaway Spoon Press, 1991-to structure a writing project). The other 7 denotes the number of different sources I worked with to write the content of each stanza. I used seven playing cards to select each source for the day. If I pulled an Ace from the short stack, I selected from poetry in my notebook. For a 2, I selected prose from my notebook. With a 3, I chose a quote from a book I was reading. With a 4, I rewrote a passage from a book I was reading, changing the sense while retaining as much of the sound as I could. Drawing a 5, I quoted news from the internet or magazines (primarily Newsweek). With a 6, I quoted from a newspaper (most commonly The Moscow-Pullman Daily News, circulation 8000). Pulling out a 7, I quoted-or slightly misquoted/misheard-television and radio programs. For instance, in "Queen of Hearts," the first line is a taken from a prose passage in my notebook about Ken Kesey's Sometimes a Great Notion. The next two lines are quotations from a political news show. The next three lines are a rewriting of a passage from something I was reading (I didn't keep a record of these texts). The next four lines are a poetry excerpt taken from my notebook, a poem written on a drive across Montana to visit family in Wisconsin. For the next five lines I again drew an Ace and excerpted from a poem based on a dream. The last two stanzas are direct quotations from my reading (direct quotations of text are marked by italics)