now

You are wretched and I am forgiven
There was nothing I could prevent
It is impossible to define a long life
Secret teachings are no longer secret
I have returned to embryonic state

When the Hubble showed us those sharp clear images
Two men down a mineshaft did not change their perceptions of
The hours left to work and breathe in the smoke, the grit, the lead dust
Fairy dust. That’s what Ragazzoni was looking for. That’s what Ragazzoni
Didn’t find. And Einstein is wrong, possibly, again.
Just like when he accused next door’s dog of stealing the sausages.

You are forgiven and I am wretched
There is something I could prevent
It is definition of a long, impossible life
Longer teachings are occluded in secrecy
State returns embryo to me

This continuum doesn’t really stretch linear-like from the past
To the future. If it did, it would be one dimensional and at the time of
First kissing you I have already buried you and mourned the passing of
Us. But while I am Newton and this is a dimension, I travel through it.
But when you are Kant, it’s all in my mind and we are no longer together.
I’m depending on radiation to mark and deliver, to measure and scratch.

I am you, forgiving the wretched
Preventing the existence of nothing
Life defines the length of the impossible
Teaching secrets no longer
I state the embryonic return

Urdr, Verdandi, Skuld beckon away from this moment
I am known as moment. It hangs on a thread, literally and
Just to be safe, I keep a basket of apples for offerings. I am
Looking at it. Feels like an elaborate stitch, woven by elves and
Giantesses. My children are safe from their gaze, from my gaze,
From yours. I am no longer serving the sentence à la carte.

You and I are both forgiven and wretched
Prevention of nothing sits here
It is life, the impossible definition
Secret length is teaching
Embryonic returns me to state

A bridge still stands and all the footsteps which previously trod
Have washed into the river beneath. I have already grown older.
Snakes lie still, yesterday is still happening but there is no tomorrow
Until my sunrise occurs. I stare at the picture of Bacon and Freud on my desk.
You are thousands of miles away, learning how to live.
I am alive. This commentary stands already out of date.

You are wretched and I am forgiven
There was nothing I could prevent
It is impossible to define a long life
Secret teachings are no longer secret
I have returned to embryonic state.

Text: © Now by J. L. Nash, August 2010
Images: © Roberto Foddai, styled by Predrag Pajdic with Katarina Mootich in the dress by Manuel Estevez, August 2010

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