Little extensions get your hair over
homophobia We cross the Sawtooth
and the Monongahela without ceiling
Our fate is celled a cross and a telltale
crossing flasher Some very one-sided
chin gets longer as things begin to point up
Our feet start sounding wet with sky
We fall and shiver and ply our various
hereditary traits on diffident parts
of the hypnotized body of Emmanuelle
Beart then as so often happens I awaken
to the swirling of the asteroid playpen
My mother says there could be strays
Constructs penetrating way up in doomed
space I think she meant to Rome in spring
or Cove of the Medusas An aura of projectiles
assays the role of Gomer’s smile I had my eye in
my hand the entire lifetime he stood
perfectly still auditioning Words mean
the upper floors are collapsing the sky is soon
entirely ours for the asking And I told it
now this will have to hold you until next
we collide in the same reading
Enough talk I went to do a paper called
every name that has ever been issued
to prisoners in those two dimensioned plates
We eat here so don’t go dipping your wick
in the dew of the hurricane ‘round the sun
dial Four years to get to the edge of reason
I thought we’d be within sight of Pluto
and one hand left to point backward at
the days before we leapt off the trunkline
With Mom here I can think clearly
about what I want between meals
and what that ellipsis is doing
on the edge of the head shaped star factory
That field we played out before we moved
with burning baseballs as symbols of eternity
in a returning copper age May you stay below
the weather and enjoy an unobstructed seat
for the air show contained in your nose
cone I could hear what it was like to be alive
all those eons ago So vividly dividing
so many tangling things to arrive at
As the cylinders pass to the deeper layer
beyond this shivering I think about songs
my Grandfather knew and realize
there were only three that had anything
remotely to do with how hard it must have been
Running alongside the boats Shipping without
a calling or heeding some urgency for night
to give him up to a vertical land Here I see
a being The father of all the uncreated
animals This picture moves like a sheet of pure
lubricant thrown into the air Clear and lured
in all directions as it expands to soften
the sun I just brought into being
We move now we’re done
Hell is so silly I see it clearly from the vectors
of the all encompassing window through
which we’re continuously plunged Their
ways are within them and within the sweep
of the severed body of Isabelle Adjani
making a common length day recede
into a diminishing focal length much larger
than all these unprocurable measures
Light is what we do We glide old and unneeded
As essential as the satchel sized cosmos
just rupturing our outer shell The hull
has been breached and just as important
is what you heard before your favorite kiss
That once set upon the page will only be seen
by the maid who sweeps the next new sea
