History, before it becomes history,
lives in the realm of the ordinary:
anecdote and family story, photographs,
postcards, letters in cursive. The news
—carried on stone tablets, by ship, by
courier, by decree. Warnings by lantern,
by crier on horseback, by sirens breaking
open the seals of night. From theory
to praxis, idea to application: how
the thumb flies into the mouth
at the instance of a burn; how you
run away from an impending storm or
put your car quick in reverse when
you see the bridge ahead in imminent
collapse. The body, a repository
of knowledge collected through history—
the ache looped like a noose against
the collarbone, pain stippling your joints
or striping your back as you toss at night
in bed— not even yours, personally, but
an archive you've nevertheless inherited.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
