WHEN WE WERE LONG AND GOLDEN (A VERSION)

poetry and sound by Junior Clemons
 photo by Justine Reimnitz


In a home that is seemingly always someone else’s an existence is named and instantly remembered for no good reason. I wish you luck but think, “It is spring when the birds die for no good reason and the inverse is also true.” And when I am gone nothing will change. Oh my god the circumstances of remembering a forgotten person differ a great deal. “I need you to promise me that nothing will change.” No. That doesn’t sound quite like me—but it is exactly what I am meaning.

It is not long from me to you; a bridge, a bridge, a bridge—a succession of bridges but the distance for you to reach me is impossible in scope I think. Though in the absence of bridges would you forgive me for retreating back to ‘nature’, which I mean in the smooth easy way. I pass some jasmine on the street and want to be buried in the feeling it gives me, you wonder where I am and I am where I am supposed to be. 

You are thinking, “I want the rim! I want the rim!” and when I look at you I can sense it; the desire for the “rim”, the “boundary”, the “precipice”, the “ridge”. Did it occur that if one considered oneself the cliff they would take on its character – how many times would we walk over the edge of our ‘true’ selves for another person? Infinite times if the circumstances were correct, I think. How many times would this happen without giving each other permission? 

It's raining now and it's as if it still hasn't rained in California. You lower your head, and every thing seems lit up but there are no people. “Now raise your head,” I can give you the mask but you must never wear it. I know that relatively few people possess the power to resist authority. Lower your head. This is nature too – the torn blue tarp and the scaffolding. Is there a version of this that could be described as decontextualized? Yes of course, described, but not lived.

In closing: you spend your time near an ocean not begging but worrying and I am not near a window thinking about how they are different.