Breathturn into Timestead (13 page)

BOOK: Breathturn into Timestead
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radiates, bow.

 

 

T
HE HEADS
, monstrous, the city,

they are building,

behind happiness.

If once more you were my pain, faithful to you,

and a lip came by, this side, at the

place, where I reach out of myself,

I would bring you through

this street

up front.

 

 

W
HERE AM
I

today?

The dangers, all,

with their appliance,

hickishly gamey,

pitchfork-high

the heavensfallow hoisted,

the losses, chalkmouthed—you

upright mouths, you tables!—

in the disangled town,

harnessed to glimmerhackneys,

—goldtrace, counterheaved

goldtrace!—,

the bridges, overjoyed by the stream,

love, up there in the branch,

niggling at the coming-escaping,

the Great Light,

elevated to a spark,

on the right of the rings

and all gain.

 

 

T
HE LONG DISCOVERED

whisper letterwords to each other,

whisper the word without leaf, the peeked-around,

the size of your taler,

hear also

my strong

You-

know-how,

the high hither, the embrace

is with us, without end,

on the staircase

to the harbor,

the goose step falters,

Odessitka.

 

 

A
LL YOUR SEALS BROKEN OPEN?
N
EVER
.

Go, cedarize it

too, the letter-

skinned, eleven-

hoofed guile:

so that the wave, honey-

distant, milk-

close, when

courage moves it to complaint,

complaint to courage, again,

so that it not also

mirror the electron-

idiot, who processes

dates for

portentous

apes.

 

 

II

S
LEEPMORSELS
, wedges,

driven into the nowhere:

we remain equal to ourselves,

the turned-

about roundstar

agrees with us.

 

 

T
RUTH
, roped to

the relinquished dreamrelics,

comes as a child

over the ridge.

The crutch in the valley,

whirred about by earthclods,

by gravel, by

eyeseed,

leafs through the high-

up flowering No—in the

crown.

 

 

O
UT OF THE NEAR

waterpits

graygreen shoveled

upward with unawakened hands:

the depth

gives up its growth, inaudible,

without resistance.

To recover that

too, before

the stoneday blows the men-

and animal-swarms empty, exactly as

the sevenflute, fronting the mouths, the

maws, demands it.

 

 

H
ATCHED

chitin-

suns.

The armored amphibians

wrap the blue prayercoats around themselves, the sand-

enthralled gull

sanctions it, the lurking

lampwick

goes into itself.

 

 

E
TERNITIES
, died

over and above you,

a letter touches

your still un-

wounded fingers,

the shining forehead

vaults hither

and beds itself in

odors, noises.

 

 

T
HE PERTY SAXIFRAGE

in the tile's joint

of the empty-

prayed, hothouse-

like asylum,

a ceratose gaze

sleeps itself into the half-

open gate,

gangly,

a more than

major syllable comes walking,

an awakened

blindman's staff points it

to the place behind

the whitehorsemanes.

 

 

T
HE BETWEEN-WHILES

hailed aid

grows,

the name-edifice

pauses,

the glacier milk carts

the fully grown through

the swimming target

of its unwavering

blazes.

 

 

T
HE SUCCESSFUL

mummy-leap across

the mountain.

The singular giant-

leaf of the paulownia,

that records it.

Unpicked, the large

toy-

worlds. No service whatsoever

in the constellation.

In the controltowers the hundred

silver hoofs hammer

the forbidden

light free.

 

 

O
N THE RAINED-OVER SPOOR

silence's little juggler sermon.

It is, as if you could hear,

as if I still loved you.

 

 

W
HITESOUNDS
, bundled,

ray-

passages

over the table

with the bottle post hither.

(It listens to itself, listens

to a sea, drinks it

too, unveils

the roadheavy

mouths.)

The One Secret

butts forever into the word.

(Who falls off that, rolls

under the leafless tree.)

All the

shadowclasps

on all the

shadowjoints,

audible-inaudible,

that announce themselves now.

 

 

T
HE DEVILISH

tonguejokes of night

lignify in your ear,

what the glances

beamed back,

jumps forward,

the wasted

bridgetolls, harped,

chisel through the chalkravine before us,

the sea-ish lightswamp

barks up at us—

at you,

earthly-invisible

sanctuary.

 

 

T
HE DARK VACCINATION CANDIDATES
, on

their unwavering orbit

around the wound,

needly,

beyond number and host,

running errands, indefatigable,

the glasshard

grinding sounds of writing,

on both seams

the afforested

hand-district (you half

sheen, alabaster),

in the wintery preserve

one pine absolves itself.

 

 

T
HE SECOND

nettle-message

to the

chugging

skull:

Sagged away,

the living

sky. Under

the yowling

nozzle,

amidst the eternal

blinker game,

bite yourself as word into the knowing,

starless

stalk.

 

 

T
HE EXCAVATED HEART
,

wherein they install feeling.

Wholesale homeland pre-

fabricated parts.

Milksister

shovel.

 

 

T
HE INDUSTRIOUS

mineral resources, homey,

the heated syncope,

The not-to-be-deciphered

jubilee,

The completely glassed-in

spider-altars in the all-

overtowering low building,

the intermediate sounds

(even yet?),

the shadowpalavers,

the anxieties, icetrue,

flightclear,

the baroquely cloaked,

language-swallowing showerroom,

semantically floodlit,

the uninscribed wall

of a standing-cell:

here

live yourself

straightthrough, without clock.

 

 

T
HE COLLIDING
temples,

naked, in the mask-rental:

behind the world

unbidden hope casts

out the towropes.

On the sea-ish woundborders lands

the breathing number.

 

 

I
N-HEAVENED
in plague-

shrouds. At

the disnighted

place.

The eyeblinkreflexes during

the luxuriant

dreamlevel

null.

 

 

W
HEN
I
DON'T KNOW, DON'T KNOW
,

without you, without you, without a You,

they all come,

the

freebeheaded, who

lifelong brainlessly sang

of the tribe

of the You-less:

Ashrei,

a word without meaning,

trans-Tibetan,

injected into the

Jewess

Pallas

Athena's

helmeted ovaries,

and when he,

he,

fetally,

harps Carpathian nono,

then the Allemande

bobbins her lace for

the vomiting im-

mortal

song.

 

 

A
CCLIMATIZED-DISCLIMATIZED
,

adisclimatized,

the obedient darkness: three

bloodhours behind the

gaze-spring,

the coldlight-ocellae, s-

mothered by blinding,

the thirteen-

carat Nothing:

over you, with

the luckskin,

it folds itself

during

the ascent.

 

 

G
IANT
,

pathless, tree-

die-cast

hand-

scape,

quincunx.

The branches, nerve-piloted,

fall upon

the already

reddened harsh shadows,

a snakebite before

rose-

rise.

 

 

N
EIGHED TOMBPRAYERS
,

bloodhoofs paw

the thoughtbouquets together,

an ash-hooray

turns over the vocal parts,

hangs the irradiated topazes

high up in space,

the storm-compulsary

corpse bags

line up,

in the funeral procession

the kingdom of

Bohemia grins

irresistably.

 

 

T
HE ETERNITIES HONKYTONK

in the bent beam,

a greeting goes wild, twixt two,

the darkblood

muscle, it too

concealing itself,

encapsulates the name it carried along,

and reproduces itself

through budding.

 

 

T
RASHSWALLOWER-CHOIRS
, silvery:

Miliary fever

runs and runs around the pit-tomb,

whoever

thinks that December, a

gaze will wet his

talking forehead.

 

 

III

D
EDEVILED INSTANT
.

All winds.

The powers, sobered,

sow the lungstitch shut.

The blood collapses back upon itself.

In Bocklemünd, across the one in front,

the lightscript,

but also across you,

deeper confrère letter,

eternity-hither the

hammershine hurries.

 

 

S
HELLS
inside Finitude, stretchable,

in each

another figure grows itself fast

A thousand

is not even yet One.

Each arrow you loose

is accompanied by the sent-along target

into the unerringly-secret

tumult.

 

 

L
OVE
, straitjacket-pretty,

bears in on the pair of cranes.

Who, given that he drives through the void,

does the disbreathed here

bring across into one of the worlds?

 

 

Y
OU WERE
my death:

you I could hold on to,

while all fell from me.

 

 

T
O THE RIGHT
—who? Shedeath.

And you, to the left, you?

The travel-sickles at the outer-

heavenly place

mime themselves whitegray

into moonswallows,

into starswifts.

I dive over there

and pour an urnfull

down, into,

you.

 

 

T
HE DISMANTLED TABOOS
,

and the bordercrisscrossing between them,

worldwet, on a

meaning chase, on a

meaning

flight.

 

 

R
AGE-PILGRIM RAIDS
across

a sea-ish Outside and Inside,

Conquista

in the narrowest

bottom heart-

vitals.

(Nobody discolors what now streams.)

The salt of a co-

tear here

submerged

struggles up

the light

logbooktowers.

Soon

it flashes at us.

 

 

S
ILENCE
, old hag, ride me through the rapids.

Lids' fires, light up the way.

 

 

T
HE ONE
self-

starred

night.

Threathed through by ashes,

hour-hither hour-yonder,

by the lidshadows of shut-

down eyes,

ground down

to arrowthin

souls,

silenced in conversation

with airalgae-bearded

crawling quivers.

A fulfilled

lightconch drives

through a conscience.

 

 

O
VER MULLED AND TOILED WINE
, necronymic

long before time,

I muster the glassworld—and not it alone—

for inspection

and roll myself into a stiff sail, mast-strong,

BOOK: Breathturn into Timestead
7.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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