clear no touch
but words no more
death fear
I swam out of the streaming ikon eyes
who loved me: not-me: no more care
I left the clothes
standing there I swam
into swarming projectless air
redemptionless
from under the earth to over the earth
air to not air
The Coin
While you were alive
and thought well of me
there was always a coin in my fish-mouth
off in the night
or the day lake. Now
the little coin doesn't need itself…
October morning
October morning—
sea lions barking
on the off-shore rock
Autumn evening—
seals' heads nosing through
the pink Pacific
I gather myself
onto my day raft, your voice
lost under me:
first other tongue
I heard my left hand
I heard my left hand love for my right hand
white through the screen door
just as through the summer elm you
two years ago in the bardo
moved into the room we once had feeling for.
In the evening
In the evening
I saw them
their little
open boats
carrying us
across the blood water
their invisible company
their invisible company
you beauty I never
did not know
no time
no place
you beauty
little ferryman
*
We cut the new day
We cut the new day
like a key:
betrayal:
We went ahead anyway
drinking down the will of the event
On the eighth floor
something fell
alive inside the old street wall
next to the bed
I heard it fall
and fall
Occurrence of White
First thriving, then failing to thrive:
no never thriving,
from the beginning,
the ghost freighter out of Fall River,
ghost railroad car out of Chicago,
raked my skin and your skin in white silence.
How have I hurt you?
How have I hurt you?
You saw me.
I dream I am you full of fear and dread with me in your arms :my cloth love holding your breath
How have I hurt you
You saw me
I didn't see you
Do flies remember us
Do flies remember us
We don't them
we say “fly”
say
“woman”
“man”
you gone
through my hands
me through your hands
our footprints feeling
over us
thirstily
You drew my head
You drew my head
the back of my head
my neck stem
you made my head a charcoal skull
and even the skull
is turned away
no eyes
The little, faintly blue clay eggs
The little, faintly blue clay eggs
in the real grass nest you made and sent to me
by
