Saturday, August 12, 2006


take the lover's words at their most adroit
for this is the lathering welcome soft
as liquorice froth on a bed of fished
rice where no manplan followed
the dead harridan's line

for this also where the massive daddy longlegs
memory crawls contemporaneously
with one mind you only massive rose thorn
made dreg-veined legs
could not yet crawled

curled up nurserybed-wise and sleep tested
against the cutting point her birther's hands
and shouting mouth how they were hacking
the hedge down and failed to notice no sand
notice no

come sea time there are whoosh angels
in scampering tides clithering backwards along
the shoreline so gets us to find ourselves and words
they have slanted somewhat from the cruel pagewise the

trail stockings dirt as journey in nylony
as dredge shimmying pathfinders led his coming
tomorrow the where this fits on over the carbonated granite
clevvages the oily rain washes sense into
to ravage the thought ravage to

find ourselves holds like a huge holding pattern over
their circling the planes the hedgepicky blackbird scrawbling
his very very very nice to see you how the worm earth provides

to have the cleaning taken from her not her sister
who sat at feet who smoothes tears who taught
with precious perfume offering
whose five languid are
carefully unhook

from the scripts now life is in
the sand
the leaf
the fingercrusting because

they ache for a skin surface not the antiskin
teachings after all not anything fallen but glossy
as if kedgeree became constituents again
and mad mother actually died no scratch-trench

most: to rest is to believe it can be given
to believe is to was not reborn in the genes
is to found not self but demiocean simply was
washed was peacesalt held was real-laid not churned

1 comment:

Brian Boutwell said...

I admit the language/pace lost me at times, but over all I found this to be very sensual.