Time Is a Flat Circle

Loose associate.
More than balanced.
The heavily distorted, flamelike—

too rarely
the pen & chalk
projected his series of penetrations

& there are, by expression, these notes,
the qualities of, & with, work.
*
Infamous resting, restoring, for personal pleasure to predict.
*
The draw of broken art, domi——
The vitality. His p——
his color—
transcen——
*
The feathered drawing, later linear,
by both outlines
straight in limited forms,

in the wood, in his
grasp, in veiled practices,
accorded erotic struggles.
*
There stood a name,
his instrument pulled up into
the air. The subject revolts,
piling reframed to labor.
*
Minor color, L’art ancien
reports no brown ink.
Also, a mixture closer
to feathered time
which, in print,
the bodily structure reveals.

Desire Is a Form of Time Travel

In the wake of peasant life:
the early landers:
the ground city.
*
Overbuff, one master
new & unusual
as a stone footnote.
Art of arts,
the men,
the virgin,
& a point.
*
The future’s graphic
drawing of drawings
impacts the personal.
*
Just one with one—
assembling a new
appreciation in
predecessors, the largesse
of molded forms.
*
The peasant life rather pedestrian—yet, emotion seen.
*
How easily all engravers
parallel when preparing
in his mind another D——

Lines of Succession to the Throne

Here I am. My last stand
on the hotel balcony.

Each domain awaits its sovereign.
By domain, of course, I mean this life.

Its many & varied pawns
play varied & many plots.

A doctor playing doctor, filling out the forms.
An artist playing artist, filling out the forms.

All of this is mine?
Even the cobwebbed moth.

Even the flattened lizard.
The fly from the banana.

Its hand on mine.
These incessant buzzings in my ear.