**
*
the comet
*
1
in damned dreams shall appear this tyrannous globe:
fish-lizard seas and the emperor-mountains,
*
sublime lakes,
terrifying gulfs,
a thousand jungle-groves ruled by doomed reptile-despots.
the waves slough off a salty steam.
*
of a morn
a genteel visitor of intervals descends;
she traces a loop in the sky and departs.
*
all the land lies under her curse.
*
*
2
between two rivers the spire rises.
zebras and flamingoes
shamble on a pink beach;
*
this boscage breathes anguish and vanished love,
an unredeemed ravening hunger.
*
oh proud square spiral, you strain without trembling towards the immaterial dome;
your laborers drudge through the upside-down hours,
king’s midnight crew
bearing huge granite cubes,
spreading mortar like frosting,
measuring, chipping,
sawing, shoving,
heaving, setting,
tugging at pulleys.
your colored tunics gleam like ghosts below the pinprick stars.
*
now nigh matins
witness how our winking guest
traces her curve
as of ancient days –
*
from the worksite rise curses; oh, the children’s blocks topple!
*
*
3
all things break in this land
but it is kept clean.
*
sweet girl with red hair
two days deep in fever
watches her shelf of dolls from her bed –
*
watching for a leg to kick,
arm to swing,
head to pivot.
each clean pupil glitters in hers.
the wallpaper poses
a spiral riddle.
*
what might be heard
in the far-off, blinking cockpit of nightmares?
*
a warning bell,
the roar of galaxies.
*
in the comet are three men.
*
*
*
*
the mysterious maze
*
1
let us fill ourselves again
with music and the sparkling flows of gin –
as Gaia fills the grove with vines –
and let us play to the sentinel of these lands
his funeral’s organ-music.
how the glorious sun-bear wakes!
from the cup of the earth pour the waters of wine,
and Bel of Babylon sighs out the winds.
the bear crawls from his den, the leopard slinks,
but we never stir.
our bed is a river, the flow of white drink.
how this portal of moon-rays glows in the night!
2
through the maze of the world blue Acheron wends,
between the leopards with great starlings’ heads
and the large wings of dragonflies.
and Bel croaks his bubbles, the organ plays,
and I will ever sleep, you ever nearby –
until the cup swallows down the waters and wines,
the winds of the world,
the moon-rays, and tides.
3
this music for our sentinel fades.
he would roam through the maze, each day and each night,
feared by the woman and man
held in each other’s hands…
but the organ stills now, the moon drifts low,
and there is no one to wake us –
and none to lift us up
out from the dreams
of the marionette Death.
*
*
*
*
[the lion awake, the deer asleep]
*
1
the lion awake, the deer asleep
inhabit the flat lengths
of the windy world.
nothing brays, nor stalks,
nor moves.
the owl and dove
speak nothing from broken trees.
*
a fountain runs in the center land
where gray birds sip.
2
invisible heads
spout moonlight
from cornice and capstone.
the wheat is wet.
*
how many eyes watch the dew?
*
the world and its creatures
doze under windy tufts
and the glass snakes
sift through the earth.
*
where is the scepter
that dropped from the sky?
it is buried in the hills,
lost beneath rocks.
3
tonight is cold, the throne bright.
a noise of rushing resounds on the sea.
*
the clams lie shut and wait.
*
*
*
*
reverie 3
*
1
the lands are tinted orange.
*
in the times colored orange the crowds wander about;
and a queue forms out a door and through the basins,
and follows every path, never to move…
*
nine archons turn the spigots and the valves,
lifting sweet waters to the planes above –
*
see the graces! in slow shifting shambling,
singing for the pools drawn in glass tubes.
2
greed, lust, and gluttony,
all far away –
rush to the corners of the world.
*
marble orbs clack atop the blocks of stone.
*
our frogs have leapt over our gate;
they spread through the sickened grass –
they have all hopped away in a glad breeze.
*
they sit and open wide their mouths.
3
harvesters cut under clouds and stars –
the scythes eat and eat: the teeth of toil.
*
clouds run away in the wind.
4
in the yellow-colored world a farmer cuts the clay earth
with his plow;
he scores the terraced hills in grooves.
*
on the first level the barley grows.
on the second level the oats grow.
on the third level the rye grows.
on the fourth level
*
*
*
*
the battle
*
mace-sword-mace the copper clamor
and the red rush of horse-legs
flashing bleeding crushing
this sun a cerebellum of wounds
cuts the gold pennant cuts down the silver heart
turning to triangles
in one painting, in the silent room
**
*
*
*
reverie 4
*
1
strange, how I love you
now you are in other places.
under fathomless blue
a captain rides his palfrey through a hushed land
between blank castles.
the ground’s gray deepens while the towers’ shine pales.
from sharp rocks and the roots of weeds
a rooster calls in hauteur to his galaxy,
the concordat of eyelets.
softly, longingly, along the road…
and caught within a shadow,
listening without breath:
where is the voice that passes down through silence,
counting the pistils of a yellow rose?
2
I have heard the planets chime and toll above the flat land
and the pink hypnotic bubble rush and breathe
among the shoals of dawn,
driven by the squat folk, either deaf or blind,
who turn the dials of bliss and loneliness.
* *