tropical light, curling
and twisting, sings
the schematic diagram
of possibility.

it cajoles me from bed,
an undisciplined
and pedestrian child.

with small poetic acts
of reconnection,
objects found buried
believe in the promise where
people emerge.

such faceless, hooded
labyrinths.
--

using his mind like a chainsaw,
an almost fetishistic fabrication,
his foreshortenings are bound
to put whispers in open mouths.

sober rhythms built on sand.

he opens a vertiginous void,
haunted by histories,
his face the master map
of concision.
--

the blinding effects of
metallic bodies; the gazes
that do not meet. myriad
glimpses of people slipping
down landscapes of dozens
of haunted afternoons.

dead robbers of the teeth
of corpses working in total darkness,
mixing physical fullness with
spiritual vacancy; the survey of
mistaken surveyors sees faces
in random objects, anonymous
tracks.