Something Like We Did III
By Tim Seibles
We were trying to open up to the world that we didn’t even know exists.
—Anthony Braxton, interview with Gerry Hemingway on September 1, 2013, in Willisau, Switzerland
The way you
would squint
at an aphid
on your wrist
they watched me—
the way someone
watches a baby bird
fallen to the ground
careful, like children
finding a fish alive
in the grass.
The one who
spoke had clearly
practiced, but
the odd stops
and blue notes
shaped the inflections
so, for a moment
English was played
like a marimba:
something about
speed without
motion—travel
like memory—
as if space itself
were obsolete.
Like testing a fabric,
the silent one tugged
my lip. I opened
both hands:
palms flat, fingers
straight: they
watched as if
my answer
would appear
would squint
at an aphid
on your wrist
they watched me—
the way someone
watches a baby bird
fallen to the ground
careful, like children
finding a fish alive
in the grass.
The one who
spoke had clearly
practiced, but
the odd stops
and blue notes
shaped the inflections
so, for a moment
English was played
like a marimba:
something about
speed without
motion—travel
like memory—
as if space itself
were obsolete.
Like testing a fabric,
the silent one tugged
my lip. I opened
both hands:
palms flat, fingers
straight: they
watched as if
my answer
would appear
