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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415093" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Psychoanalysis: An Elegy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What are you thinking about?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am thinking of an early summer.<br>I am thinking of wet hills in the rain<br>Pouring water. Shedding it<br>Down empty acres of oak and manzanita<br>Down to the old green brush tangled in the sun,<br>Greasewood, sage, and spring mustard.<br>Or the hot wind coming down from Santa Ana<br>Driving the hills crazy,<br>A fast wind with a bit of dust in it<br>Bruising everything and making the seed sweet.<br>Or down in the city where the peach trees<br>Are awkward as young horses,<br>And there are kites caught on the wires<br>Up above the street lamps,<br>And the storm drains are all choked with dead branches.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What are you thinking?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I think that I would like to write a poem that is slow as a summer<br>As slow getting started<br>As 4th of July somewhere around the middle of the second stanza<br>After a lot of unusual rain<br>California seems long in the summer.<br>I would like to write a poem as long as California<br>And as slow as a summer.<br>Do you get me, Doctor? It would have to be as slow<br>As the very tip of summer.<br>As slow as the summer seems<br>On a hot day drinking beer outside Riverside<br>Or standing in the middle of a white-hot road<br>Between Bakersfield and Hell<br>Waiting for Santa Claus.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What are you thinking now?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I’m thinking that she is very much like California.<br>When she is still her dress is like a roadmap. Highways<br>Traveling up and down her skin<br>Long empty highways<br>With the moon chasing jackrabbits across them<br>On hot summer nights.<br>I am thinking that her body could be California<br>And I a rich Eastern tourist<br>Lost somewhere between Hell and Texas<br>Looking at a map of a long, wet, dancing California<br>That I have never seen.<br>Send me some penny picture-postcards, lady,<br>Send them.<br>One of each breast photographed looking<br>Like curious national monuments,<br>One of your body sweeping like a three-lane highway<br>Twenty-seven miles from a night’s lodging<br>In the world’s oldest hotel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What are you thinking?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am thinking of how many times this poem<br>Will be repeated. How many summers<br>Will torture California<br>Until the damned maps burn<br>Until the mad cartographer<br>Falls to the ground and possesses<br>The sweet thick earth from which he has been hiding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What are you thinking now?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am thinking that a poem could go on forever.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jack+Spicer">Jack Spicer</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415093" data-title="Psychoanalysis: An Elegy de Jack Spicer" data-description="What are you thinking about?

I am thinking of an early summer.
I am thinking of wet hills in the rain
Pouring water. Shedding it
Down empty acres of oak and manzanita
Down to the old green brush tangled in the sun,
Greasewood, sage, and spring mu..."></div>
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