Allen,s Text 4896

Sun breaks through I put the pliers on the floor along with the scissors
that’s so they don’t fall off the desk from all the typing
non violent placing is best when possible
the bottle of glue maintains a risk but it moves more slowly however, my little daybook is about to fall.
Coins I leave lying, for even if they strike the floor, the sound isn’t jarring
anyway there’s no guarantee they’ll fall

Pieces of paper float effortlessly, noiselessly, touch down with a distinctive sound, not exactly rustling, not shufflin, it is the sound of all their own, pleasing, it has little or nothing to do with words.

I have noticed it makes no difference / if the paper is blank
though that is not to say words don’t weigh
only that theirs is a different sound
entirely unrelated to the material they’re on
(when the big metal sign fell into the street
it wasn’t “Bijou” that sounded)

The streetcars are still horses in my window
they come so quickly this time of day
they don’t stop long
the doors open, people get on and off, usually anyway
sometimes not
even that is not predictable
that is its power, one of its powers, the scene
always changing and full of movement
noisy but one really hears the silence when it happens
and the sun moves in and out crossing the sky my windows face
the sun now shining