Svelte lightning
over a truce of
spaces, cityscape--
over-world hung
by its smoggy age.
White to black
magic in its shadowy
cavities, word licks
mind as these millions
airmail.
Raining down in a
vibratory confetti, tuned
to and minced.
Mayday of mingling mumbles.

Being made to remember,
held to signature upswells
in the depths of unmeaning.
How near, in truer
sense--beyond madness to
minister logic to an uncut
event, yet cut.
Pieced together in hope
of netting mortality, harboring
the breath of life as if a
resentment.
Willing what will not, being
made to remember--being
made to forget.
As soon drawn, as erased...
the fronting forefront.
Whose change has its own memory,
so perfect it's changeless.
Beingness cut front to back,
back to front...side to side,
top to bottom, bottom to top.
Uterine cave torch lighting
isolated events bound for
seas of sequence.
Mind's eyefuls of the whole in a
simultaneity of remembrance,
and forgetfulness.

This you say, without
saying, is my frame--
racked by what is
not brought forth.
Triptych of self...reserved by
the momentum of evasion.
Not to outstride holy company.
Compounding the brilliance
of what was stole away from.
As if a face for every
face, that could not bear
its image.
Driven to outposts which
are eyes more naked than
love at war.
So much of self at judgement,
none the more self to judge
having seen.

A nimbus spreads
toward the rim of
a puddle...
legs hopping its
saintly sun,
down-to-earthly.

Throat gone for...

would word,

word forsaken?

Ascribed to no language...

interstices

in a Void...

hallowed they be.

Light/Dark

cast unto them...

by them.

Surreptitious incantations

occasion Being pause...

throat gone for...

bled...

would word, word

such a

silence?

A*  statue  drooling
with  inertia  twitches
its  ri­ght  pointer  finger
toward  creation,   in
an  oblivion  of  secrecy...
here  comes  my  ­fate
taking  its  own  hand.

Crowning canopies
of trees,  mid monotonia
to their wood, huddled
in prayer.
Cobwebed against the great ultramarine Eight--
brittle scintillas, gloaming
to vespers.