Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Attempting to Rewrite the Previous Poem as a Text with Less Noise, More Music (Writhing Noise)

is naked
near dead
the wounded
to approach

no visible but dread
the empty plain
Timgad before or
any parthian or
ancient or modern

sere seer air
any came
any suit of skin
any sphere of eye
link look
into cool interlocatory
what is foolish in light

hyle book clue
now fervor
engineer's fossil plat
no reflecting pool
re-flect-ting pool
and atop it

myrthing up by pedestal
or ankhi fete
the black sphere
dull and silent

he will die
and is not a woman
not found not judged by any
but the land
and his own path of decisions
and there and barely able to stand
weighed on by a heavy silent blankness
an empty torque of wandering vowells
curved into noons and swords
mid-knight its clock peel worth

the echo line
the ring around the periodic go
the black sphere
this is not Timgad
this fiasco rig's hot piss
drains out to the sand

its eye crust to sleep
there is a period
at the end
of the amply crooked


(image by Michael Schiavo)

No comments:

Post a Comment

Irrony Observes The Earthing.