Aught, no. 7 (2001)
City Scape II
Passing through a familiar city you can count them. One or two.
A gestural fatality. Peripatetic increment. Incremental peripatet.
Towards that destination cracks. A brownish kind. A door. An
interval. Stillness executed step. One little finger makes and eclipse.
The eye is a jelly enclosure. Oil on the road refracts. Ice reflects. A
bird is a navigational mechanism. The sun threaded in piston wing.
Each one aspiring a pivot point. A silver ball and a boat are not a
recipe. For God. Makes a METROPOLIS. Reflected in a window.
Lacuna is a favoured word passing through the lips makes an o.
The eye is a golden chair.
City Scape III
You can count them. Surrendering a vista to enter. Look
downwards step. Black bitumen to hold it. Look up blue
window of blue opportunity. Cold contracting shadows
illumination. Pupil makes a light contraction. A glancing
blvow. Have you ever stopped to ask. What makes it?
A moving testament is a control subject. A stationary
object. A blur.
Copyright © 2001, by the author. All rights reserved.
Return to Aught, no. 7, contents