Maiden Voyage of the Surfaces

for DCM and KM-M




Long as his boats remained at the marks
she thinks he isn’t here but moonlight is a form of ken
borrowing back the tribal sonnets stones in the mercury nest
a swell from which the form sweeps into her
moored at the leather’s rain post
we learn something then we call for help from the sun
a wide expanse of clothing

take away your topmost sail and replace it with his flash
ask if you can steer for the street lamps
awash in the masking’s dole noise of the deaf rafters
timers can tell you how well you’re matching
there is no right answer on the elephant cloud
night is all of these microscopic movements
from the shift through the traffic to the empty spinal cymbal

staples take the air too long
few people have the chance to see it through to a finale
what you get is a scratch that had no rotten timbers
there were only so many ways around the cape
of the means and the last who saw without devices knew
a year is the finest drop in the sea
man standing in the shadow of the fishery

today then only the overhang and a curious slave tomorrow
any of these same people might have been
sometimes all at once a word begins being dwarfed
there is no more important water
the lineage of the masthead
and a sailor’s personal papers
he had a kindness around the past

why wonder what made some hard and some last not as long?
what needed to be said has been said by the billows
where it came right and held to
fast to the racing of the temporary juices
now it’s we who want
tonight and the want is the very bitters
when flagons are seen to take aim and flight becomes maelstrom

centered and he always had his hands thrust down
to steady the landfalls
to prepare himself he went by a name
like Man Next To The Scrimshaw Key
known by the hand and the time he kept in token
of all the seas he had thrown
one might be where he went to have his moments taken

leaning in the boards and augers wheeling against office
what difference what they called his line when he wasn’t here?
net weights and dinner by shoulder light
help that should long since have been cancelled
whose other names are standard
what parts does a broadside require?
give it another thrust and again we’ll see if she waffles

now more years than the sand are without us
since he fell in between those catch times
released above the nexus at father and hand turned reading
the people have had their say
which way to the elements?
she gave him her fingers before they were hers
before her seconds became his for a pound of something sweet

if you ever see that tarpaper figure
lift a barrel and leave your sheets to cutlass signage
where the islets converge as a book on an easel
the birds that erase the waves
ships driving upward along the pinnacle
take all this as terminology only
give it some tears to build

move into the shadow angles and wait
there are backs to be broken yet
parts that need sorting for market
what was it that he said about the years being left too dry?
no sign of life had more than its share of outline
it was for them to be as below decks as they had to
his was a hastening up