travel luggage

By | 10 July 2009

1
touch the walls with bare hands.
snow. each line along his brow
spilling over glistening stones.

 
 

2
I hear the nurses calling
between shadows
and give that up, too. He will draw a door closing
and flickers of saints
inside the shell of a car
a library of untranslated prose
no longer light years away.

You harvested whatever you could carry
Along the independent variable of time or narrative –

sleep awhile, if you will.
This will look like a circle to the audience and they will applaud.
 
 

3
until we meet inside the radio
or (doctored) film with red flowers
(I hope this thing)
the name of a late breeze looks nothing like
a familiar occurrence subject to change
(at least in front of you)
secret drawer tidy package
focus evenly tell me
until we meet (inside the radio)
There's no comparison

 
 

4
the latest report patiently clouds the room

and cannot see the other side

colour in each petal with the scratchy hand of a kid
you are bookbinder cartographer

dog on the wall
all to himself
underneath old newspapers

 
 
___________________________________________________

 

Those eyes that shift from left to right
Pull out a folded handkerchief and tell us where we are,
how it becomes us, the monk replied
Except for the suitcase he has completely filled with unfinished words

 
___________________________________________________

 

deserted by a whole team of people with tools
of the quotidian. (We apologise for endangered auxiliary verbs
including sharp or heavy objects
but not tonight.)

 
___________________________________________________

 

dog on the wall
all to himself
underneath old newspapers
its existence identity late and later
Crazily it shone

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