barred

barred, cage-like
tremulous.

how was it that someone else thought of 'clotted' yesterday before me?

yesterday i:
"lived in a tangle" (r. ducornet)
in a:
"knot of twinging turf" (y.winters)
in the:
"clotting cold." (y. winters)

frozen ice-in-air, dissapointment
said sang-froid blood cold
break it off like brittle
frozen yet not always so frigid
anger
steam that evaporates in front of my own mouth
i never realized that anger could be packed into words like clay
like thrown clay that is laced with small stones.

i remember throwing some of the most beautiful raw rough red clay vessels
they rose magically in my hands because the clay was so loose in itself
like sandpaper too
the small stones cut my hands
so quickly i didn't feel it happening
until after when i was running them under cold water in a dirty classroom sink.

the new wet vessels
stood on the wood-grain folding table like slumped soldiers
like melting towers
like crennelated and pierced desert formations.

i tried to explain to my class how they were supposed to represent moorish north african architecture
with its seamless push between earth and structure
sacred signs whitewashed on walls
rock adobe bone dried clay
mudded

my teacher attacked my technique
said they were not big enough
he wondered aloud if i had what it takes for a challenging undergraduate art program.

he said i lacked discipline.
then shuffled off in clogs
that were too big for him
making his legs contort inwards to hold them on his feet
trailing chalk and clay dust behind him.

he watched quietly as i packed the vessels into the back of my car.