Sal Randolph

Sal Randolph is an artist and writer who lives in New York and works between language and action. She is the author of The Uses of Art, a memoir of transformative encounters with works of art, described by Michael Cunningham as “dazzlingly original, ferociously intelligent.” Her poems have been featured in BOMB, jubilat, Sound American, and elsewhere; her performance and social art works have appeared internationally at museums and in exhibitions including the Glasgow International, Ljubljana Biennial, Manifesta 4, and the São Paulo Biennial. She has taught at Princeton and Bennington College.

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X

Pure regret off the fingers can fly down

thinking twice if space isn’t that protect

in parts closer in mind often doubt false

say twice feeling water and sea believe

who instead read out until close touch me

both in slowly both hands myself tell there

under hear only one together air

only one way by one should have crying

come to me wanting something who can’t sleep

who gave dreaming meant to see believing

left only sense to know where bigger waves

open now asking come we reconcile

once slower slow keeping without but down

anymore overtaken should stay else.

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XI

Sea birds cross salty go crying rises

wind as we one by one meanwhile go ward

by eyes seeing couldn’t let justice below

all fear beyond memorial time still

talking to dream into shadow only

meeting alone do into but saw looking

today needed anyway anything

prove too many never let through waiting

wouldn’t dream a whole in would exactly

crossing to steam saw rapid out of place

rapid to ready walk breathless in night

letting go by will not walk to mercy

to the river breathing sense catch waving

being caught the river leading water.

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XII

Hold dreaming to night crowded could if close

part to prove part with leaving positions

here without wherever all gravity

keeping without how am that already

stay both hands close to touch use myself to tell

have come forgiveness dazzle in need while

somewhere else found when tired my maybe

taking my good don’t what holding lost me

strength hidden make here by summer walking

about where never done together be

just rather carry won’t like mind that know

would in tell me with style likely like that

frightened on any were content to hold

until faded me to fact would know myself.

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XIII

Certain don’t go should far here suppose where

even don’t even though but far body

tell bird by delight go in about dream

wrong in body don’t about flying tell

from restless sleep in the way of open

should press against in mind am wrong moving

where will fall strangers again until who

tonight asleep where shifting already

felt instruction in ecstasy plain when

not certainty after all night turning

clouds into clouds turning island sinking

has turned there beneath rising time against

water drifted in sun empty for time

unraveling no shortage will forgive.

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XIV

Traces gone seems to keep one hand to spare

you counting days a toll left behind all

doing here in why can’t get living wonder

what times carry a debt no miracle

don’t any more believe another wants

national to encounter past every

security one last faith haven’t you

had seeming darkness makes anyone far

sounds will mean seeming makes to you be good

left me held never down could happy take

your another enough for not to breathe

am not lost another one to you went

off into hopes not well your hands always

can’t keep any of waiting don’t believe.

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