Aught, no. 14 (2005)
Its v is volume and this is mass.
Lavender grown wild beside a rock.
This rock. Any rock.
It’s story and it sings. Its tunes begin
outside the body. Light glimmer affects.
Effect the best part of middle C ground
going on like this repeats. Purple planes,
purple people packaged like pillows:
what’s not “allowed.” But we have generations
of generosity behind us won’t then that.
You can pay and you can pay. It comes up
empty. It needs obliging to survive. Rests
its case, threadbare apparition.
difficulty a sharp absence
airplane black feeling
prickles the points to remain
this young again
name’s carefully slipped my mind
I realize how it is
the it being to think
or its finicky second act
cold monkey, turkey free
love its funky despair
parts of the body
slid from what to not
pilgrim out to be
in providence of
4 + 2
Four means I get to stay in the apt.
not go out, not do anything
about face, desk calls, Angel’s
left calling cards
the thread’s that break
cellophane blue and wire is
the Belgian guitarplayer
slotted fret at the heart
instruments a tune
to dance to