schoolchildren have constructed
a sort of ruin, the desire to
preserve life unchanged;
forever forgotten by impressions
that refuse to be dislodged.

a new story, the corpse of
a collapse; it is not touched,
becoming disjointed,
dependent upon unexpected
tenderness.

the head is destruction of the
blankest kind, the blankest and
emptiest part-time sort of demolition.
---



an alert, profiled face stares
out of a porthole; red-rimmed
eyes difficult to give my heart to.

the half-lunatic looks at purpose and
opens his rictal grimace, gaudy
repetition assembled from
the mismatch of various moments.

a lost genius, a nihilist with
an unconscious voice,
unreconstructedly heroic,
untouched and unmoved.

his mathematical objects,
rows of vitrined objects,
reflect and break.

the glance oscillates to
the flat gray field of the sea,
forgotten movement turned into
grudging conversation.
---



to climb, to put my head
into the elements, to bang out
tuneless rhythm, i made
a loose fist with my right hand.

the repeat was repeated,
constructed from the discords of
light made manifold.

frozen momentariness and
punctual oddity are
not reproductions of things
but an empty variation,
doubly embalmed.