Breathturn into Timestead (18 page)

dying-

large we

lie next to each other, fall

crocus swarms

under your breathing lids,

the pair of blackbirds hangs

out near us, under our

together up there

drifting along white

meta-

stases.

 

 

T
O NIGHTORDER
ridden-

over, sledded-

over, stormed-

over,

un-

sung, un-

vanquished, un-

entwined, planted in

front of the insanity tents

soulbearded, hailstone-

eyed whitepebble-

stutterer.

 

 

T
O SPEAK WITH
the blind alleys

of the opposite,

of its

expatriated

meaning—:

to chew

this bread, with

writing-teeth.

 

 

S
OMETHING LIKE NIGHT
, sharper-

tongued than

yesterday, than tomorrow;

something like her

fishmouthed greeting

over the sorrow-

bar;

something blown together

in children's fists;

something of my

and of no substance.

 

 

III

W
HY THIS SUDDEN AT-HOMENESS
, all-out, all-in?

I can, look, sink myself into you, glacierlike,

you yourself slay your brothers:

earlier than they

I was with you, Snowed One.

Throw your tropes

in with the rest:

Someone wants to know,

why with God I

was no different than with you,

someone

wants to drown in that,

two books instead of lungs,

someone who stabbed himself into

you, bebreathes the cut,

someone, he was the one closest to you,

gets lost to himself,

someone adorns your sex

with your and his betrayal,

maybe

I was both

 

 

W
HY, FROM THE UNCREATED
,

given that, in the end, its awaits you again,

stand out? Why,

believer in seconds, these

delusion wages?

Metalgrowth, soulgrowth, nothinggrowth.

Mercurius as Christ,

a philosopher's pebble, upriver

the sign interpreted

to shreds,

carbonized, rotted, watered,

unrevealed, certain

magnalia.

 

 

MAPESBURY ROAD

Waved toward you,

the quiet from behind

the step of a black woman.

By her side

the

magnolia-houred half-watch

of a red,

that also searches for meaning elsewhere—

or maybe nowhere.

The full

timehalo around

a lodged bullet, next to it, brainish.

The sharply heavened spacy

sips sharedair.

You—do not adjourn yourself.

 

 

T
HE OVERLOADED CALL
: your

companion, nameable,

next to the dinged bookedge:

come with the reading shimmer,

it is

the barricade.

 

 

D
ARKENED FORTH
, once more

your talk reaches

the foreshadowed leaf-shoot of

the beech tree.

Nothing can

be done or gotten from you

you are enfied to a strangeness.

Endlessly

I hear the stone stand in you.

 

 

W
ITH YOU, RAGDOLL
, to fiddle, the

ragman's cart comes a-

jazzing, it's over there

we want,

the muted

trumpet

breathes us time-up,

into the hardest

ear of this world,

then also

jams red-

wood between our

for-pleasure and for-harm,

then,

when it hoes us free,

you crumble plumb into

my being.

 

 

T
HE RUNIC ONE TOO
changes lanes:

amidst

the arrest-squad

he scrapes him-

self, arresting-arrested, red,

carrot, sister,

with your peels

plant me, the moory one, free

from his

Tomorrow,

in the

high buckets, near

the recalled tinder-sponge,

as-

cended into the phallic

braintransplant, overdays

the forever daily'd

woundstone.

 

 

Y
OUR, EVEN YOUR

falsenotes-suffused shadow

I gave a chance,

him, him too

I stoned with my

straightshadowed, straight-

pealed me—a

six-star,

toward which you silenced yourself,

today

silence yourself, whereto you want,

hurling what time undersanctified,

long since, me too, in the street,

I step, not to receive a heart,

toward me out into the

stony-many.

 

 

WALLSLOGAN

Disfigured—an angel, anew, stops dead—

a face comes to itself,

the astral-

weapon with

the memoryshaft:

attentively it greets

its

thinking lions.

 

 

FOR ERIC

Illuminated

a conscience rams

the hither and thither

plague-ridden equation,

later than early: earlier

time holds the brusk

rebellious scales,

just as you, son,

hold my with you arrowing

hand.

 

 

W
HO DOESN'T PLOUGH UP SOMETHING?

He. This time.

Untilled

his land stands into the sense of his sun-

nights.

He names us.

Yes, he roustabouts.

Yes, he approves, he beloams,

what you smelt

pre-site,

post-site,

above-site, fallow,

against the ores,

at the very bottom,

alive.

 

 

G
ILLYFLOWERS
, cat-enfranchised.

With wife

on your right, this lawn.

Rod- and moonsickle-stalemate.

You shouldn't, thus, like you, behind bars, back then,

the

Maltese Jew, big-

lipped—him

the bone jumped, abrupter

than I, the bone

that someone already from tomorrow threw—,

you

should not

look up to heaven, you left

him then, as he you,

stranded,

side-lit.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Sister chestnut, multifoliate,

with your blank overhither.

 

 

Y
OU TRANSFATHOM

colorpush, numbertoss, misconception,

many

say:

it's you, we disknow it,

many negate themselves on you,

you who affirm them one by

one for yourself,

insurrectionary like

the stonecourage,

given as present to the handsaid,

who raised himself to the world

at the seam of the turned silence

and of all danger.

 

 

FOR ERIC

In the megaphone

history excavates,

in the suburbs the tanks crawl,

our glass

fills up with silk,

we stand.

 

 

Y
OUR BLONDSHADOW
, swim-

snaffle bridled,

waves the watershabrack,

—you too

would have a right to Paris,

if more bitter you

innered yourself—,

your haunchmark, colorless

it sketches the half-

near levade.

 

 

T
HE ABYSSES ROAM
: humgravel—:

you can sort that out

with feelings of numbness

and unsleep,

and if—the baits haunt

the flagpole to the top—,

if here too the

nightmare-emblems fluttered by,

you would be, plundering yourself,

domineeringly-even,

their fission.

 

 

Y
OUR MANE-ECHO

—I rinsed its stone—,

studded with hoarfrost,

with unsealed

forehead be-

famed

by me.

 

 

IV

T
HE IN-EAR-DEVICE
sprouts a bloom,

you are its year, you are dis-

cussed by the tongueless world,

one in six

knows this.

 

 

T
HE HALFGNAWED
pennant

devours all lands away from the sea,

all seas away from the land,

a further name

—hey, you, animate yourself!—

has to endure

a cipher,

uncountable you:

you are one un-

sign

ahead of them

all.

 

 

A
LEAF
, treeless,

for Bertolt Brecht:

What times are these

when a conversation

is nearly a crime,

because it includes so much

that's already been said.

 

 

P
LAYTIME
: the windows, they too,

read you all that secrecy

from your whirls

and mirror it

in the jelly-eyed beyond,

but

here too,

where you miss the color, a human sheers off, unmuted,

where the number tries to ape you,

breath clots, toward you,

strengthened

the hour stops next to you,

you speak,

you stand,

most firm above

the parabelized messengers

by voice

by matter.

 

 

O
UT OF FUTURE-PAST FATE

stand the steps,

what's poured in the ear

emancipates prehistory in it,

fjords

are wicks,

what's recounted on an empty stomach

dreams,

you touch it, a day-

conspirator.

 

 

O
PEN GLOTTIS
, airstream,

the

vowel, effective,

with the one

formant,

consonant-thrusts, filtered

by clarity clear

from afar,

protection shield: consciousness

uncathectable

I and you too,

overtruth-

ed

the eye-,

the memory-greedy rolling

commodity

sign,

the temporal lobe intact,

like the visionstem.

 

 

F
ROM THE MOORFLOOR
to

climb into the sans-image,

a hemo

in the gun barrel hope,

the aim, like impatience, of age,

in it.

Village air, rue Tournefort.

 

 

H
IGHMOOR
, watch-glass-

shaped (someone has time),

so many knights, sundewaddicted,

from the

lagg

the Sabbath candles rise up,

swingmoor, when you peatify,

I'll unhand

the Just One.

 

 

O
REGLITTER
, deep in

turmoil, urfathers.

You help yourself

thus,

as if

angiosperms spoke

a clear word,

with them.

Chalktrace trombone.

In the karst depression

the lost finds

sparseness, clarity.

 

 

E
INKANTER
: Rembrandt

on easy terms with the lightcut,

sunned off the star

as beardlock, templish,

handlines cross the forehead,

in the desertshifts, on

the pedestal boulders

around your right

commissure shimmers

the sixteenth psalm.

 

 

W
ITH PRUNING HOOKS
, at

prayer's tidal range,

to splice all topsails,

afighting, standing, behind

the eyelash, in oilskin,

anointed by showers,

to tie the calmbelt

around your joke-spike, dinghy

world.

 

 

L
OESSDOLLS
: thus,

here it doesn't petrify,

only landsnailshells,

not blown empty,

say to the desert: you

are inhabited—:

the wild horses blow

into mammouth-

horns:

Petrarch

is in sight

again.

 

 

V

S
TEELUGINOUS VISIONSTONE
, bestarred,

this here:

The palm ferns, now,

in Castrup: a

metallic vanguard troop

of the next

ur-century,

a flightskin, big-lipped,

you

push through it,

the image-addicted, blank

escalator

cannot mirror you.

 

 

A
ND STRENGTH AND PAIN

and what rammed me

and pushed and held:

jubilee-leap-

years,

spruceroar, once,

your typhus, Tanja,

the wilding conviction

that this is to be said differently than

so.

 

 

R
AISED TOGETHER

by the noises,

you push—glass