Wednesday, December 16, 2015

three and a half seconds of pure light (a poem for the Time Being)
unlike the whip-pan, which is used to rip the viewer
into a tangential reality, the dead-pan uses a melting rack-focus
to engage the death-posture of the character onscreen
—Madeleine Shine

1. (he sees himself laying onward
in the rain stone 

after stone
into the mist towards a horizon
which will not be known

this the Zen-pan or stone-pan)

2. the boy the silhouette only of the boy
the long-dead seen from behind
hobbles along the alleyway
leaving his merest forensics barely

stroked into silver emulsion

3. another who reaches the vanishing point
who leaves nothing

—undiscoverable archaeology
of light
a creature of soft parts only
who dances but will not keep
who leaves no fossil for the reliquary

4. where at the table the hands work in shards

—of flint, itself fossil, compression,
the metamorphic dead—

knappings, rebuild in three dimensions
the stone jigsaws—each when finished
yet incomplete—brooding an inner hollow

where something was once eased forth

now only a void, a lost core felt
as disturbance
of the night air but nothing

when we stir
only nothing

lost there
in all our rolling fingers of dream




Deb said...

Hey Stevie Wonder merry xmas and all that moose jazz.
Your best pal

Steve said...

Hey Weavies! Send us some snow! And have a very cool new year! :0)