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TelekinesisAuthor(s): Melissa KwasnySource: Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art, No. 48 (2011), p. 1Published by: Columbia: A Journal of Literature and ArtStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/41951749Accessed: 23-03-2016 02:33 UTC
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Telekinesis
by Melissa Kwasny
Over there, someone is buying a velvet scarf, pronouncing
the words spring willow, dream. Over there, they are sleeping,
the buds. White sash round the sky-blue waist of earth, glitter-
water of the lake we have come to see. (How beautiful a student
says to the visitor named green after the unseasonably dry and
brown winter.) Phalanx after phalanx, the snow geese rise from
the lake s sheen, then disappear as they hit the surface. The
shadows under the hills each proclaiming I am hill. Relax. The
land will greet each of us. The head will lift only so high. I am
worried for you, my friend, who are not as happy as me. Your
symptoms I can feel in the distance. How you stood in my yard
long past the time I had gone to bed, looking up at the stars,
which made you dizzy. The sky is further away than you think, is it
not, mamai the son asks near the end of Beckett s novel, and the
mother answers, devastatingly, no. It is precisely as far away as it
appears to be.
TELEKINESIS 1
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