Poet as hark

– Poet as hark
As thimble, ear, sense of what
As hark – where the sense of what gives ear to

Wednesday – where each noon is assembled, bled a
New

As sense of when; harm is pillow; dire
Banked – where we growl away the sense of where

– How does the poem listen?
How does the poem listen?
With the

Bulb of the pen in still
Ness giving

The moon a month to stare –
How does

The poem listen? as agree
Ment to

Stay on course as the jet
Of ink

Relents; off course the well
Blurts out

There is a source I draw from, a source


         asking
for the leaf to wither now as it is time
asking for the
                       weathered
                       gin of yester
day to cease to 
                       day
this source where dank mixes with sweet mixes with musk

poet as solvent

to solve is
to 
   change to bre
   ak
to leave a stone where the voice of water burns
   to solve is to bre
athe to mock the volume the sheer vapidity of 
                                           it
You've already begun to chime when the straight line
geometers a 
    wrong circle and gasp; you've already
lost out two breaths in this circle
                             haventyou?

poet as response

as a point of solemn untaint    the repose    response of the valid call    intrinsic to the have-to   an urgent malediction    candor    clip of will    wit     assumptions of untaint

So you see the plastic dripping
in all crevices,

You see the hinges tweaking a
Sorry bent, you

Hear the laments and hurrahs, the
Pew-hymns and

Haw-hums grappling with an easy
Morning, and

You want to play, but the rules
Are rigged, yet

You want to play, and change the
Jagged strokes

Of verseforms that are immense
Yet sad, exact

Yet wrong, very wrong, and
You want to

Change the jagged strokes; set
It right now.

core meanders about the peripheral
happenness

where door meets plaster and the
rim of new

lets the spark of its steel mend
the ripped

On the caress of form – the
thatched

agreement to proact – on the
cadence

of form – the typology of
arbitrary

gavels hit on the noose of
lawfulness

poet as abstract

the truesomeness of the abstract
form

forms an inadequate tryst with
moan

& grasps the root the supple dint
hope

of root & miss – the grappled un
true

what is manged by the volume of verity   it is dust’s own   what is sung by tremor by noon’s surrender by the tap of a hungry chord   it is dust’s own   we cannot arrange this word as it falls off the tapestry   it is done   it is the opposite of word   the scene is rife with other words   it is dust’s own

The arbitrary plonk is
this river’s demure

upbringing; it will swim
when it can, and when

its wrists slacken, you
don the filament of ash

Perhaps you
  tuned your
  mouth as the wash of ancient

Mouths would
  have you do;
  perhaps your art of deliverance

Is shoulder
  and head,
  and perhaps this too is oblique

poet as project

the poet as project as
vertex

of void meets poignact
as cup

of a holy warmth blued
within

as reverie mix of mint
dew us
This is power robbing what it must this is 
                   power             taint
       moist - throb
       of
       lo
       ss, this is power  - it
       knows    is power             taint
       moist -    rob
       of
       vo
       ic e

pre-nouns and post-causes
the valence of a retired morning
finds cause

in split hearsays, auxiliated pre
nouns and post

causes; there is violence in how
the word is

sharred.