Anything That Moved ('Immobile Growth')*

Sometimes a wind blows/ And you and I/Float/In love/And kiss/Forever/In a darkness/And the mysteries/Of love/Come clear
-David Lynch (quoted in Michel Chion's *David Lynch*)

If a light went out in the world
Candle light light of indifferent
Dwelling
Light of a telling seen
I would fuck anything that moved
I would be you and
You would be me

If a light went out
In a windy world
Wound so around a noun
Predicated on
A desiring but secret name
I would fuck
Anything that moved
The scars of your breasts
Fascinated like a statue
Speed of thought speed of
Violence
Disguises rest

Speed of this car light
While we are parked
Nowhere discernible I would be
Like you you
Would be like me
In the light of a world gone out
Evil dictates
A space to hit

Velvet we would be
Slow in this movement
Of wind
Roaring the
Anti-hero of dialectics
Love will reign
Speed of love
If fucking won’t become
A nightly thing
The exits we pass-up
To become each other
Will be velvet
Nowhere discernible
But darkness not of night

Slow slow slow
In this movement of wind
Before the light the candle
Light
Of the world gone out
There was a refrain
Velvet in
The mouth of fucking
I was you and you were me
The face it lit
Up with false flame
Unwavering
Perfect for our vehicles
Of immaculate song

Dreaming slow in this
World
In this other
World red
The lips red of
This slow
Mouth of fucking
Lips close-up and
Slow to breath when dead
Unfalse in a night
Of wind not yet

Not yet velvet
Not yet this light please
O please
Not yet please, please O
Unclasped this
Night not yet of wind
Unclasped around
A verb to fuck

Lets drink to fucking I am not
You
You are not me yet
A dog roars the real
Voice sounds slowed
The patient slap
The lips
Nearly breathing
Not yet unclasped

Cleave to night verb to fuck
Love love cleaves to
Night to unwind wind
To light slow
A flame of rearview
Mirrors neither hero
Me or you “poet” or
“Assassin”
It goes with the territory

The refrain the wind through
The trees from which she
Emerges
The light light slow
Light the
Object of night of
A mirror around these beings

I would fuck anything that
Moves
But nothing’s moving
Too slow a light lighting
The face as it does not sing
Speed of this parked car light
While we are parked

The ear relays this unseen
To the composing eye
Newly breathing a world
Of wind of wind and
Flowers as they beginning
Slow reds and yellows
Of the wind
Wind around a car as
It is passing wind around
Our being

For that moment I am you
And you are me
I would the hero fuck
Anything that moved
Slow speed of dialectics
Libido love will reign
The lips the patient slap
Of flesh but briefly

I would the anti-hero
Uncleave all song all sound
The words as they are
Signs of breath wound slow
And rhythmic like waves
Around the dark

If a light went out in the world
I would hear only
The lips the patient slap
Of flesh as spirit
A final chase of
Speed and chance
The revolving movements
Of two faces under
The dark light of a parked car.

*composed Spring 2005 to Zack Finch and Michael Cross, after lines from poems by Mike Kelleher and John Taggart and watching again David Lynch's *Blue Velvet*.