Thursday, February 12, 2015

for a temporary felicity in the beyonds



when its multihand first spied the dried blip
its ould would remy the he-i
as in a night in the luxembourg-
a willful gourmand to overturn the whole of speech
with a swangled korylimb-
the arc foreborn in a blackened switch cote
which- in may string furloughing april fish
would- repelling down our first meat's water's
broken wood the page-
towards the middle of its gyration
that ancient omen-
what is- is-
this disaggregation of favor to the face-
its name does not mean destruction
and chance long before the birth
of the mind's coincidence with sign
reversed towards a wind
so leafed-
Epicurious I beseech thee-
here in the library at Timgad-
gazing out again through zigzagging burl holes
where in the distant and naïve virtue
of the tier membled gravels-
rams clap their factitious horns
to the soul of exercise-
and breathe
for the never of the eglantine
and the never of the eglantine
breathes for them-
a frail grace
borne of no labour