Richard Siken
Strata
I drove out past the flat nastiness of Nebraska and into the Badlands
of South Dakota. I was twenty-three. The world was a pink layer
cake that someone had clawed through. What is a life? Sediment,
residue. Something falls down and soon enough more things fall
down and cover it. A red thing, a dark thing. Some chalk, some gold.
I drove through it. I viewed it from the side. Where is the point
where nostalgia turns into history? Endurance, duration—how long
is now? The layered past, the ever-moving present, the void of the
unfinished future—we try to measure it. We dig for artifacts and find
a shard of pottery, a jawbone. We tell ourselves the story of a bright
day in November. It isn’t accurate but we have to live as if some
things are true. Landfill, I have a question for you, about the bones
of things. Library, I have questions about the bones. Because
everyone will die, die. Everyone will die. We rise into language for
only so long before we fall back down into silence. It’s a small
window, the span of time in which we get to say what we know. I
took a picture of myself by the side of the road. Strange picture. I
don’t look like that anymore.
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Richard Siken is a poet and painter. His book Crush won the 2004 Yale Series of Younger Poets prize, selected by Louise Glück, a Lambda Literary Award, a Thom Gunn Award and was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. His other books are War of the Foxes (Copper Canyon Press, 2015) and I Do Know Some Things (forthcoming, Copper Canyon Press, 2025). Siken is a recipient of fellowships from the Lannan Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts. He lives in Tucson, Arizona.