then take shelter

 

the quiet latitude of supplication 

obsidian as refractors

childhood like a hushed eddy

objections rise from the space we make

​

 

boulders matter at the earth’s surface

the friction abets the tectonic slippage  

​

 

                       objection’s eddy or the space we make as refractors

​
 

supplication by any other name         felsic lava extruded or obsidian

​
 

take umbrage from the falling

chamber

take stock of the rift then claim it

the eddy does its little dervish

take in all its conditions

all of childhood’s revenants

​


 

                       phrasal movements

                       advance the language

                       keeps all phrasing just below the

                       surface

                       felsic lava extruded or obsidian

                       forms a glass-ringed covenant

​
 

​

then objections rise from the space we make

black viscosity acts as covenant

pillbox another virtue          place all objects in my hand

 

I have carried with me the long rope

clawed and cleaved to reach the 

brittle rock

claimed that I did my best

to circumvent the sharpest edges

 

obsidian as refractors              like the ancients let the glass act as mirrors

saw my own trailing hem then gathered it 

                                                          and brought the rough edges toward the

                                                                                             tainted mirrors

​

 

                                                                       all 

                                                                       the

                                                                       ways

                                                                       looking begets sight

​
 

                                                                       close our eyes and still we 

                                                                       see 

                                                                       sightline as wayward movement

                                                                       desire line as the thin veil cloaks me

 

childhood like an eddy

objections rise from

the space we make

 

 

all the chambers 

in our peripheries 

let me act as a guided arrowhead

such precision despite the distance 

how I’d attune myself to the wind

how I’d adjust to slight my gilded target

grazing country          before I’d claim it

the land existed in its own merit

its credence wasn’t in us naming it 

 

take shelter from the falling

temperatures

take stock of the permanent rift then claim it

the eddy does its little dervish

take in all its conditions

​
 

                                            all the ways want reconfigures me

                                            makes apparent the sieve of me

                                            lays bare the drift again

                                            how want becomes the forever burden

                                                        or otherwise its gentle forward movement 

 

often there is the question of need

as in how does any animal grow to fill its own vacuous need

its tender claws clean cut predator or prey

all hind and hinderance 

all puritan and pounce

veil and pin prick

 

                                                                       all 

                                                                       the

                                                                       ways

                                                                       looking begets my 

                                                                       shallow logic

                                                                       my obsidian estruscan thoughts 

                                                                       power in the peninsula

                                                                       hill-strewn villages

                                                                       colliding at the stone walls

and

little slit into the unknown

mother tongue as a bifurcation

good word as the staid

object

objections rise from

the space we make

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​