tendril length the miracle
enclosure opens
sleep o eros
where the sore and
peeling thungder
moses
somnia gives what
inclusive signal fires
it can
to the lapis carved
as the tongue of a bull
pyramid whose base in waves
resends
now look upon
the harness instrument
a meretricious glow
to warm the hard
heart of complexity
born of the sum total
of emotion
not near sobriety
the dumb
ugly cousin
of death
our tonsil hilum
It was made like a Nut,
and did thereby
Hierogliphick
its short continuance.
wear all
out in
on
its smile
the slippage faun
the naïf fumer
at one remove
from mirrored sea cube
computer
long ears
long ears
we touch in pulsing tapestries
our harp chest weavings join
where the song machines
squirt diamonds into hiss
blushing hips
to squeeze
its blackest storm
a silence
or unending crust
hydrogen
mush
the thing lengthens out
and speaks again
Himantopus
sups in the topiary
hing
among the salt
opium
lead carpets
of the empty cosmic
thing
torsos
humm
in the wild
abyss
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Lanny,
ReplyDeleteOnce this Foam Clock Hide a Bed gets rolling and folding there's no stopping it. You beauty!
mush
the thing lengthens out
and speaks again
Himantopus
sups in the topiary
hing
among the salt
opium
lead carpets
of the empty cosmic
thing
torsos
humm
in the wild
abyss
Those lines are entered into my little anthology of your classic passages.
Not long ago I was thinking, late, in the dark, about your poetry -- actually trying to enter "somnia" by the back door... and into the mind there popped the words "Burnt Norton" (??)
I know exactly what you mean by the topiary hing.
Pretty bad week here, big dawg jumped me in street, chunk out of one knee and since then the first and only good thing that's happened is a few words from you, amigo.