1: What I’ll Become

I am assembled

a history of what I’ll become
Far off there are holdfasts

cosmos winks, metal and darkness
The mind is also a swirl

needless opera
The divine numbers are a gamble

zero is a place to begin
Trees invent shadow
I cope with presence

a baffling besotted twilight

I sweep dust out the door
There is no pause button

in this immodest heat
I wake up in fragments

a prayer that never surfaces
I bless every idea, glance and jot
2: Full of Indirection

I wasn’t expecting a carnival

this perplexing delirious eclipse
I’m naked

or in someone else’s clothes

reinventing myself

from the thick weave of branches

full of indirection

unkempt endless thirst
I’m less articulate than grass

passing as a human

dreaming the immortal body

a large god of dust
I still smell it in my dreams

a name I’m not sure of
the hey-ho of unmooring
3: News We Carry

There is such beauty

in our runic flesh

Blossom dissolves darkness
Come out among

trees and wastelands

indecorous as poems
Hold my hand as we dance

new as rain
New as what we carry

in our pockets

like lost toys
Weather finds us draped

like leaves

curves of coming and going
To be with skin

held in tongues

of sunlight
The padlock drops away
4: Of Sheer Now

Everything ancient is

among flights

of sheer now

Even my hair is singing
I fall over days

vaster than history

I can’t put the leaves back
The dark is fresh

as rot, just the way

a room is

queer within
Lick plethora

the crushed rose inside me
Recompose me

in my profane air

my homely head