from After Effects

&

The power of the mind, the power and weight of the mind which is not
enough, the strength of an hour, the word that ticks off the day, the
pleasure of that word, enough and the dailiness of it, as the joy of
a forgotten treasure, that lost object that finds you again, unexpectedly,
the mind that searches for links, that holds the time that ticks by the weight
of the ticks, the too-loud clock which is not alone enough, but the sound
lingers in the mind that can change too little on its own, that cannot alter stone.

there is     sight while
wandering                             the
reminders
releasing             a layer of dust

you stop

&

Stuck in a study of weightlessness
I should know my bones are made of water.
Each thing I say or do is new
but the same.
I might take comfort in the learning of things,
push back all curtains and lay down,
embarrassed by so many dead flowers,
never chosen to carry the crown.
Since I must give up what I cannot keep
outside the sky is just blue sky.

left on the skin                                        the trick

I can almost hear

&

Startled by my own shadow
everything breathing abundance
from the darkness of the rock
to the air’s caresses.
Back through the age of solitude
the prospect is mixed but elsewhere
words painted
upside-down
are telling the story
more beautiful than a circle.

the known and     unknown                could become
a proximity

&

What might fail is of interest, curiosity for what might be overcome
through a body or through points where day meets night, cycles as
a belief or my resolve, excesses to be salvaged like last light fixed but
only for a time, one moment to match the next, time that explains little,
no more than a crow’s sudden rooftop landing, sudden but reversible,
unlike permanence, like water, always water in the end.

couldn’t     but                                       wonder
was it

the

puzzled
attempt

&

I am signing a paper without reading it. I am scattering like light,
thought too dark to be survived. Philosophy’s optimism is no longer
enough. I’ve become an expert in subtraction and distraction:
we survive on the tatters of evidence
we survive on the tatters of evidence —
this part here is where in my dreams all I need to do is bend.

what was is                       hoarded                      remains

vision

&

The moment just before
an announcement is made,
that it is not the end,
that you cannot see the end,
don’t look at the burden.
Something in you believes
the leaves of the forest the leaves
a parcel of strawberries
animals going about their dailiness
and you say: always I promise.

at this point

I want                    a flaw

that     touches