As with all things,
through me
I see
you.
I only have one
way to be,
even when
self-eviscerating;
or especially
then, than
any other:
I eat my skin.
Sated, I see;
I am a conduit.
(November 21, 2013)
-
To Write
“To build light”—Ezra Pound, Canto XCVI. . . into thefinite natureof definitiondraw a lineyour lineon a pagea boundarythen use that to lifta larger space into placearound yet anotherbit of lightpeering through a slat in the wallwhere dust motes dance unencumberedby your word(November 19, 2013) -
Peace
by
November 21, 1995On the horizon,Heaven meets earth.The sun rises and setssimultaneously – – Wheream I? At home,I am content.(from “My Book of Changes,” 1994-1995) -
19: Now You Know
Who stares at the sun?Such clarity permeatesall darkness: My eyes!( from a work in progress: “Arcana,” November17, 2013) -
Break
by
across the floorsplinteredlike laughterglass shimmersrefractedlight betweenbits of pooledbloodthe bedroommirror nolonger hugstightly againstthe wall weso preciselyhungit uponsilence playsbetweenour handsas we pickthe smallestshards of whatremains withoutreflection(November 17, 2013) -
secondary space
by
the morning lightexacerbatesthe blind whiteof our wallslike desert sandsswallowing swathesof verdant lands(November 17, 2013) -
in touch
by
stillyou touchmy armthen touchagainI turnand touchyour lipswith mineyou touchmy tongueto tastemy kissI touchyour hipthen slipbetweento touchyou deepand thenagainuntilwe seemto touchand tiltthen tipoverthe toptoward eachother aswe reachfor a handto holdto clutchas yetagainwe fallbackin lovein touch(November 17, 2013) -
Third Space
the space I amconstricts my throatlike a noose abouta convict’s neckno room to speakso silence hangswithout a voice(November 14, 2013) -
61. Inner Truth
by
January 2, 1995Long discussions with pigsand fish; laughter scattersthe way. The poemgrows within me; windshimmers a lake with light.I open a door and stand aside.(from “My Book of Changes,” 1994-1995) -
(of complexity)
by
of complexitysystems,, as holistictreats lifenatural computationapproach translatescomplexityas chaoshelp us tonestsroutinesto work, and whyday phenomenathe most basicthrough the vastships of the earth’slifeunderstandingaround us,(from “primogenitive folly,” August 2001-April 2003) -
18: Identity
What lunatic spends nightswriting poems to people whoexist only in imagination?Not that they are not real- –the people are, like Blake’s angels,very much of flesh and blood – –conglomerations of desiresof what he wished to saybut could not say – – thenswirled with all other’s wordshe’s wound within his day,‘til he’s howling at the moon:A song I sing out of tuneto create my me and you(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” November 14, 2013) -
17: Thales: All is Water
by
I, too, am water,absorbed into the dry earth.What more can I give?(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” November 13, 2013) -
16: hubris babble
“You built your tower strong and tallCan’t you see it’s got to fall some day”–Townes Van ZantLightning’s flash and crackagainst stone portends a fall.Atop a promontory crag,I’m lost in my storm surge;the sea waves clash about melike arabesques of smokerising above a funereal pyre:my pyre—so even amidst my destruction,I cling like drowning sailors to my hubrisin hope I can save something of myself.(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” November 12, 2013) -
15: control’s temptations
I worry beingcontrolled andpredicatedby my clichésand desiresas much as bythe whisperedfears of othersit would be easyto submitto the passionto stop the self-eviscerationand troublemyself no morewith doubtsand questionsbut I wouldrather danceprecariouslyalong a wireeach step mineand only minebloodied and maimedthan chainedto the hedonisticwhims of comfortor hollow fame(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” November 11, 2013)
subtext 