in 1909 buildings and trees and grass and sky pressed up against the glass /
flattening out to colourful stains /
glowing green, ripe blue, heated yellow /
how could anything live in Murnau? /
all the space where oxygen widens is squeezed /
people gladly slice through razor thin doorways /
blackbirds fly up or down only, frantic for a hidden perch /
and as the air escapes through the crack at the bottom of the scene /
citizens forget how to speak
grave matters /
it really does /
our closing dimensions /
unruly edges pressed down with spit /
two sets of lines falling parallel /
never crossing /
as is the meaning allowed /
a hole passed around /
at best, a novel definition lands /
stretching h x w /
to a landscape
one mouth / a clapping crease / as for multiple mouths, a hole in the universe / lofty crack, creaking in firsttime / not that secondtime counting procedural motions and white wigged nays / but the firsttime combusting from intimate elements / into flashes of a public space breathing through alltime / with a common body sensing the pricks from every earthy direction / hopefully, the abstracts sharing a feel
swimming over the red river / noun and descriptor have always been one / the dive is drawn in a sharp arc / landing where lead breaks / graphite crumbs on the bank / stretching out toes above the waterline / creeping for a drop off / where remains of light lend a lift to the brown / before it walls towards blueblack / even into an unbroken sheen, there is calculation
take, go, out to the glare / heighting above a shaking hand / build leaking vessels from the craft / of inwardly glue, mile-long staples, four-sided tape, unfinishing nails / leaving the image trailing into the street / designed for the rhythm of tripping / take, go, fire the sign / annealing phrase to a living line
dying in space would be ideal /
no earth to move /
no air for eulogies /
no sound for sympathies /
no surface for signing certificates /
room to relax for the finale /
calm beyond recourse /
reaching out for the gesture alone /
and all the light and dark a human can allow
just a jot to say I failed to write /
the space was across the street /
and I forgot my feet somehow /
distracted by the extra day in the hour /
a counterfeit note whistled before
lost my myth yesterday /
somewhere on 17th /
where curb height changes unexpectedly /
the earth rises up without warning again /
shouldering into bone, tripping the cultivated image /
of dominion holder forcing a grand rotation, day cleaving night /
rather tossed gravel for applause /
as this trumbling frame meets its dust /
and the only common, kind laughter
the sound said arrives early /
rarely prepared to receive guests before a written summary /
there is that sound again as early as birth /
bump of consonant, pour of vowel, spike of syllable /
why agree, why consent to these reverberations shared? /
what would be if the heard shape were always new? /
fiery feather and unending body /
scratching mountain, root and star
simply is a beast /
lock padded for convenient denial /
lest it tear into a chest of legalese /
its claws can be counted /
and make always a measurable hole /
fit for corks and sink stoppers /
there’s a rounded heat in its breath /
draping distracted shoulders dictating sub clauses /
let the tail sweep away the bronze bull /
polished afterhours /
simply should be at every door /
sizing the concierge’s head