Thursday, August 9, 2012

Variations on a Theme of J.P.F.'s


“Linear nonsense
            gets no closer the bone”.
Sound luminosity’s
                                    always an audacity.

                        the least at once to counterfeit,
                                    detected to indicate a shadow
                                                bolder perceived.

So cut
it.  And if you find the skeleton
            shuck it, along the wall         string it out
                        to a position sitting like the sitting we sit.

Or sit the bones.
They fall in place
            to the linear sense of joints locked
                                    something; nothing that the seeker
                                                does at the not time exist same.

Linear gets no closer
            nonsense.  I need for it
                        the bone in the fruit,
                                    another spur disconnect,
                                    another scalpel across a decade,
Where architects of those who signed,
            have this colony my credit slip,
            the hand when those I hope to accompany,
others in which grew too numb—

gone I just woke up to grasp the pen
                        my coffin.

I know that granted such me a night could not be repeated;
Tomorrow night and breathing into imperfect—
This quite preterite ordinary even in ordinary life.

Rivers conjoin
In this kudzu
Where state
Crossbeams down

Whole sheds

Site or scar?

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