Counting
Doors
Signals
and echoes
marks
across the geometry of the last seen
signals
for echoes
the
indifferent memorials
to
intermediate directions
gunshots
and operatic laughter
the
flow of ink through the words
not
across the page standing onto the line
with
the hook in the shade of a nail
three
nails to make the former A
the
state of the pyramid
a
finger slid across the angles of the room
ties
the air expands the level one way then another
how
the edge is lit tangled in the furrow it threads
the
nerves in reverse
language
turns into speech
testing
the adaptability
writing
turns into language
testing
the adaptability
for
a dialect to prove the rewritten yes
The
Darkness Beyond the Glare
Among
ourselves-
at
least for the brief
time
we are together
tracing
the source of the error
bewitched
by the complexities
that
perplex with methods, tasks, and rules
of
more urgent distractions
no
less demanding than the first flaw
turning
through the purely descriptive
and
what is made to be found there
Information
is brought to me:
the
trivial essence of just proportions
But
even in the fragmentary records
complexity
defines their unity
and
betrays all outward signs
Pointed
evasions remembered
or
partially remembered-
debated
in their divisions to enrich
the
unrecognized texture of life
overlaid
with retrospective feelings-
only
apparent variables and expressed
with
far less ceremony-
a
rendering of interiority-
submerged
beyond
surveillance
Reason
solves nothing
We
are led back to paradox
overloaded
with associations and allusions
determined
efforts of a personal nature
still
riveted to the spot we have chosen
The
Narrows
Pistola
dismounted
A
trifle sentimental
His
or hers a spiteful swank
Pressed
up into the dazzle
With
this to say and that
West
with clouds into
The
abode of the defended hand
Precious
space of cave-blooms
Nimbus
conjugated with iodine
This
waning occasion
Of
the half-mast imago
Shocked
smooth
Breach
sealed with a strand of clutter
Voiceless
succour
Clings
to the conspiracy
Replaced
by splinters of transmission
Tulips
and billiards
Jugging
the gulfs and gasps
Profuse
as the night's ebb
Pilgrims
pinned to the reefs
Down
from Labia Pericolosa
Derelict
consent meant to appall
Skewed
cangue of wrack
The
only remains
Fidgets
of lamentation
Root
the gauntlet of chagrin
Solitude
and its pretended havoc
Revels
diagnosed in the barren splash
Nest
and anonymous doldrums
Piked
loop undulating
From
a broken tooth
Tenth
Finger
Forgetfulness
makes a great unity of time,
its
fluency determined by the coax of self-reliance
and
the disparity in the cues of logic that account for
consequence.
Transfixed
by remorse, goodness, distraction, and emptiness
possess
all the use-options of a jagged instrument;
candor
and restraint pursue uncommon contact
in
lines of contour and isolated stages of displacement,
serial
closures made legible by repetition and cross section-
read
ambiguously they embrace their subject in disbelief
and
provide a baffling awkwardness
corroborated
by the purposeful ideals of some tame animal
and
whatever can be quickly written down-
something
continuous and misplaced, a precipitate
meticulously
intermittent added deep in the air.
An
Elliptical Orbit
The
direction: To the left then
to
the right then straight ahead then
to
the right and right again another
left
a right a left and a right and you're there
That's
a left, a right, straight on, two rights,
then
two lefts and rights in succession, and bingo
Closing
in on the remains of the marginal-
with
its gothic scraps and rhythmic notations
-never
mournful-just a pointing presence
oiled
on the Plain of Peeves
Still-but
working backwards: two rights and lefts,
two
more rights, a straightaway, then right, then left
Uncertain
hypotheses are put into motion
'Where
was I?' 'You were with me.'
'Well,
that helps you more than it helps me.'
'Then
where was I?' 'You were with me.'
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