---
title: One hundred lines
genre: verse

id: one-hundred-lines
toc: "100 lines"

project:
    title: Autocento of the breakfast table
    class: autocento
...

| Whenever you call me friend
| I fall down on my knees and cry
| because I know it's the only thing
| never to happen before in this
| life is something you can't see
| it's a pillow under a [hook shot][]
| [I want to tell you something anything][tell-you]
| but you are there and I am here
| we are [trapped inside ourselves][trapped]
| and the distance is too far
| you are something that I would tell
| [would be nothing][] before too long
| you are not the finisher of dreams
| you are the beginning of [nightmares][]
| or waking but I'm not sure which
| this [letter is for you][] in the future
| it will lead you on the path
| of goodness or of rightness or of
| wrong people and right meanings
| or the meaning will be hidden
| or wrestling the demon I will have become
| restless under the starlight
| it's too bright here to think
| the negatives would be pitch black
| darkness of a silver mine
| there are [no trees][] here
| where have you been where are you now
| I am no longer here or there
| you are anywhere or are you
| up in the clouds is a ghost
| he is white and blue like a cloud
| he paints with his teeth
| he paints the rainbow before midnight
| that you can see from your window
| staring out under the sunlight
| through the gauze curtains
| [over the high mountain][mountain] far away
| that is covered over with snow
| past the rivers and forests
| that lie awake under Orion
| hunting the bull that runs forever
| just out of his reach
| pointing the way for the two of us
| to join together in song or dance
| or that other thing and sing
| the Grinch down off Mount Crumpet
| [his heart breaking his chest][heart]
| thumping with the beat
| his [little dog too][] running running
| with the bull full of laughter and blood
| he can't see it anymore because it's become him
| we are trapped he says we are
| trapped in ourselves it turns out
| that all along it wasn't you or me
| but he and her or her and him or
| he and he or she and she or they
| even they tell us that nothing has happened
| even they know that it's a big joke
| one more thing to know before the death
| we are crying like crocodiles
| before their loved ones' coffins
| we are bellowing with grief like buffalo
| on a berth of wild oxen
| we are wailing our clothes are in rags
| [we want][want1] [we want][want2] [we want][want3]
| but never can we get
| what is it
| we don't know what it is
| but it's something it's anything
| it's too many people or not enough
| it's too few trees we need more
| beavers to build riverdams we need
| grapes too or [plums][] from the ice box
| or an ice box even would be nice
| all I have is this cube isn't that right
| or is a sphere a cube a donut a coffee
| cup your hands in mine yes that's right
| now bring the water to your face
| clear and cool and
| full of something
| what is it wanting
| or yearning
| I can see in your eyes they're clear now
| they are as clear as a running stream
| or the sky that's clear right
| or the water that is in the Bahamas
| because I hear that's clear
| you're as clear as the sound of a bell
| you're as clear as the [braying of horses][]
| you're as clear as the glass in God's eye
| and I
| I'm as dull as an ox plowing
| [through fields in his yoke][yoke]
| I'm as dull as clouded amber
| I'm dull as you find me
| tonight after dinner
| I'm reading the crossword
| you're sitting beside me
| you're watching TV.

[hook shot]: theoceanoverflowswithcamels.html
[tell-you]: lovesong.html
[trapped]: howtoread.html
[would be nothing]: no-nothing.html
[nightmares]: in-bed.html
[letter is for you]: poetry-time.html
[no trees]: plant.html
[mountain]: mountain.html
[heart]: moon-drowning.html
[little dog too]: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUpxmlZ2hyM
[want1]: i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html
[want2]: fire.html
[want3]: lovesong.html
[plums]: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/245576
[braying of horses]: table_contents.html
[yoke]: last-passenger.html