University of Montana MFA (1982) Laurie Lamon reads at Shakespeare & Co. at 7. pm.
Prime Number
It looks like a man wearing a shawl whose body is another shawl wrapped around a man who has already gone to his death in a subway, an office building, a chair beside a hospital bed—a man leaning against a lectern, or rising from a seat on a train that is leaving a city for another city; it looks like sunrise or midnight; it looks like prayer or hunger whose table and chair is without company, without the forgiveness of bread and meat;
it looks like a woman sitting on a bus where two dozen are seated at an intersection where nothing is meant to keep from occurring; where nothing is meant to return the explosion to the briefcase of work at her feet, the weight of the sweater whose sleeves cross her breasts to the dark emptiness of the body’s withdrawal—shoulder and arm, the wrist and palm’s volume of light: time that crosses the body’s corridor, the eye’s division.
from Without Wings (CavanKerry Press; 2009)
