Monday, December 22, 2008

Vegas nerve

lacking the early association of horses & death—Madeleine Shine

.............—even without headlamps & swerves
.................. sweeping rowan silhouettes/vistas of pure light

[the way home already known to involve
a traversing of many weeps and freshets] but but

...............zen/y/atta mond/atta—
..................look such waifs of the nostratic

but no he cried there so silly in firelight but no
—as though such admonishment might alter my feeling
for his sister and her collection

of strange dolls she spun into talking every hourless window
where in the attic her mother died slow
....................................................(oh still channelling throughout
....................................................her many pets would later claim)

slow as peaches rotting
down there in old desert cans

from the Crimea and the wastes I have for you such news such news


"Vegas?"—we even ask him that—"Vegas?"
.............how kindly he gaze in his crepuscules there

(they talk now all is
of psychism and drugs
—outside/the moon
at some perigee
& no longer even
purpose between us)

..............here at the flitting hour
..............where with such eyes/
..............he jumps forever in
..............the chests of the deceased

—I doubt all the perigee of it now

"Vagus" he says—"something different..."

["they persuaded me back
started me like an engine"
]

(these are red tiles that lead nowhere)

grey wings enfold
no no no
wings enfold................no are no wings................enfolding no enfold

facedown//harking//black mucus
something grey
...................... enfolds
.............. something/nothing

—I doubt all the tenderness of it now
,
,
,

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I don't understand all of this - but I understand more than the first time I read it.

Steve, this is breathtaking / devastating.Truly a keeper, not just for you but for us all.

zoe