September 2011
20 posts
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August 2011
33 posts
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SEQUESTRIENNE
Don’t look at me for answers. Who am I but a sobriquet, a teeth-grinder, grinder of color, and vanishing point? There was a time of middle distance, unforgettable, a sort of lace-cut flame-green filament to ravish my skintight eyes. Heaven’s motes sift to salt-white — paint is ground to silence; and I, I am bound, unquiet, a shade of blue in the studio. If it...
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A BOOK OF MUSIC
Coming at an end, the lovers
Are exhausted like two swimmers. Where
Did it end? There is no telling. No love is
Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves’ boundaries
From which two can emerge exhausted, nor long goodbye
Like death.
Coming at an end. Rather, I would say, like a length
Of coiled rope
Which does not disguise in the final twists of its lengths
Its...
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Three PERCENT
You live
Larger, brighter
Even heavier
Equally essential.
Absent mirror
Black mass
Swallows scream.
“Serendipitous” escape
New physics
Fertile violence
Milky youngsters.
Three percent: clusters
Theories
Halo standards
Decay.
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The Six Most Common Words
The point
Of writing:
To point
And pursue
A notion
In vain.
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SECONDS
The point is to see through
the dying,
who pinch non-existent
objects from the air
sequentially,
to this season’s
laying on of
withered leaves?
2
A moment is everything
one person
(see below)
takes in simultaneously
though some
or much of what
a creature feels
may not reach
conscious awareness
and only a small part
(or none) of this
will be carried forward
to the next...
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drive the car
It’s easy to hit cruise control and gaze out the window at the stream of places you could have stopped but didn’t: watch the scenery rush past, each tree or house or face blurred indistinguishable from the next. But what’s the point of driving if you never take a back road or change lanes or stop to stretch and enter the landscape streaming by beyond the glass?
