A lamb passed by
Everybody looked
Gradation of greens
bookended by verdigris
eau de Nil
on site in sight
Your teeth effulge like pearls
when you reset my field
Towards a new topology
or typology
but the ology's
just that
We trace a shape
that quickly doubles back
Irreconcilably
Looking for myself
in an abyss-shaped hole
Blocked kick
Forfeiting the day for
intercepted introspection
Destined to fail
While the easy stream
runs incessantly
I can't take my eyes
off the via negativa
Encroaching upon
the great oaks' shadows
as they stretch in preparation
for Selene's conquest
A maenad of the heart
burrowed somewhere
deep across senses
stalks my proprioception
Ceding to her gentle power
a blueness clouds
any notion of I
Rio Grande
Misstepping on stones
that dot the river
like the constellation Scorpius
you showed me overnight
Land does not assert itself
or mark boundaries; gradients
of texture, of material, of ousia
abound in cohabitation
Leading with
directionlessness:
Freedom is form
in formlessness
Watching Tennis
The symmetry of
the green court
of delicately
manicured grass
pleases eye and
something more:
an ocular balm
that bleeds into
synapses
like a slow trickling
of water into
subterranean soil
Georgian squirrels play about
with a verve that matches the joy
I dream to have on my wedding day
or today;
wide-eyed wandering, forsaking
lassitude
But quelling the desire to move
(a deluded habit)
I remain engaged
in unreasoned struggle
Later
at the crossroads of Beer Street
and Gin Lane
I'll recall this moment
here
Charleston
Specks of shade
bestowed by spanish moss
beckon traveler and companion
Spectres pervade:
you hear echos
bearing consonants
that give name
to a different you
Strolling down the esplanade
past gracks and egrets
you feel the soft imprint
of what is necessarily lost
The indecipherability
of its shape
will sweetly haunt
for days to come
Comet Town
Lost in postcards, squinting
Looking for where truth and fantasy meet
In the axis of an image
With or without proscenium
The rectangular world is a haven
For the fictive
Powers Island
Flotsam and residue from brilliant minerals floating;
Let's go boating
I say
hurrying down submerged steps
into the river where wading is
holy wash for sunbathers
After Friday we return Sunday;
Let's go boating
I say
swiftly building a hull of Lincoln Logs
jib of fish wire
and most importantly
We run into the woods
and change into glorious
outmoded garments
that fulfill an image
of how boating
may look
When fissures appear
eradicate that cold wall
Begin anew
Look for downward depth
then look again
Across the threshold
light rays accumulate, bursting
off surfaces and filling voids
wherever found
From the mound
a chipmunk watches, nevermore coy—
thirsting
to be lulled
If thou see images clearly
outlined thru the flame
Have faith it's not merely
a sign you're insane
If thou see a symbol
imprinted in fields
Know mind must be nimble
and heart need no shield
Oh brother! take this letter
Let words enter without fight
I could never know one better
I will never know your light
Everywhere I go
I see a shadow
Nature is
beauty without concept
beauty as beauty
beauty is
And when
the forest filters
through the eyes
beauty becomes
Oh purity!
why is it
that you must
exist hither
If only
you'd remain fantasy
then I could
sleep sound
