Friday, February 03, 2006

Devotion II & III*

Devotion II.

To know
if you can know

the flat portraiture
rectangle necessary

irrevocable memoir
of when we were not separable

Windmills stalk flat flat flat flat

all wind blown at wind push weather

push all mill wind through color the wash

the reeds of a plain and

flat the wind pushed through them

Towering in its gesture
their simple relay
like machines do

The wind conveyed
by points that flutter
drawn by wash

Flat cross assymetric make aerial

make conveyance make
courses through winds graves

flat cross
the mark from an aerial
my sole blank bird

be flat vanished arrow
by cursor pushing which way

What more endemic but wind?

reeds weeds reeds
weeds reeds

blank of a cross
pure reed simple move

smooth cloth
smooth cloth
cloth smoothed

What the child looks at while it has vision
of having a flower before its mind

and the flower
the flower holding her
face and breast

mute the start.
The child gazing beyond
the colors of the flower

vibration and eyes deep

If we were young child and
the face young and honest

depersonalized upon
a fold of your hand
some object

the brushstrokes would show this

With flesh contact

canvas gaze at

a slight bend over which we call landscape

not flatness, not merely time

to the horizon

where it begins and ends

Slight bud and bend swell
and blood obsess

alabaster, spirits
equation for making weather
sound as weather does

expansion through it and without
to a cold stretch of green gray land

the cheek to show me my own soft watch

Devotion III.
Ghost Riding

Being beside
others days humans

separate the flesh mass

thunder being beside
suddenly this fence

an impossible
waterway line

move for
phenomenal tuft

a point to
a distance ahead

a distance ahead
a way

On the backs points and
desert tongue

reel from sweet music
memory of orgy

artillery in a distance
without history

without joyful test

Test of truth
league of wish
for infinity
site of flight

from the photograph of work

there the ink

the screen my thought of it
while it is spilling

would be dark

We cried in games
bad air pact
bird in sub-state (substrates)
places where none march straight

we beat the graves
and covered earth with sound
of the real like a dark stone
between two dark stones

Pray for me too...

from nothing but distance
is each night born

where a mile is not a mile
where a sun’s not a sun

capitalize this refusal

Not the kids
the wrap-around dead

pushed up by car
to ladder

to him

Pushed up put guns
down words
hostage to light

dear deer above
scrape the dust

(more often the place we return to)

... small machines
deer redeemed from context

to none aimed in fog

Near enough to nearly touch
their fingers, their lapels

women and men in black
sign and small world
preposition is our silence

The eye in the cat’s body


the face
an animal’s intention

if sickness were grace

Where vision is removed the human

Where vision is replaced our thoughts tend

*composed Fall / Winter '02

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