Arbitration

Filament considered burnt when whisped to
an ash of light a cingle sinder snift from
centered darkness and
faded like a gel cut light line to
a single moment of data
a sharp sliver of - just barely -

A catacomb lifts up dark nights and dripped

Perhaps I should begin again

In a filament's fire symbols shiver out
in dust and ash and dripping wax symbols shiver out
In each line you misread, in the smith waterman of stars

I forget when thrip, drip, slip
I forged a symbol shivered in stone and out smith sharp silver into a single moment

On the surface of the body
Wired and, naturally, twisted to the center
naturally, where the last
thorn of some slipped kingdom

Naturally there are ten drinks orbiting
an allopen mouth. Nicely, with clean
water, with clean
mouth, the clean
nights of marbled wind and waves
washing each other in salt and
saline silently sweeping, nicely
naturally

Molt

There are too few verbs.
Etymology of earth, telling tales in the shapes of
warped rockbed
corrugated magma
folded face of boulderhead

Under. There are

If by neglecting all movement they can
eschew doing, stealing earmarked moments from

if I align onehundred uncertaintiesAndFailures
if I align one--dred certainties and failures
If U align 100 --------------ties and failures

One Thick Thrum

Reverberates, or something

Fidelity

Each stone of the late light falls and spreads, rippling, across sightsurface
to shift the leaves of memory into torrents of page, into tripping mists that,
darling, I will likely not remember.

Each drift slips past with careen intact, torquing in driptime, knocking the
fluttered figures of postern butterflies, left behind to guard the escape of
a single, silken moth.

I am true to you, as the fallen are true to the earth, and the last shooting tendril
is true to collapsed eye-bud, and slipping snail. I am true to my wormed core.

Arbitrage

Nightly a shimmer of slylight skips inward
in word fact and folly form into trackland
on the order of Tue's proper domains. Ink

mailed on a lisp of sheet a shift of cryp
tych. Each panel is a riddle, each panel
falls in flakes before awl and canon. Ano
ther there.

Each panel is a riddle mailed for Proper
dominance, ominous ackland trolly Tue Can
there be no other in Ink each panel slyly
slips.

on spider nights

ON spider nights in the sclimb limb lash there
site sits underamor slimming fixing filled and warn with
crass unmade the thunder blade slips back slips tracks
gurneyed folding and fetching with astringent folds
wishfully and watching and cracked with sniplength follows
and fetches
flicked and formed with ardent form anananzi anasazi
man or stone

Gone by then

In the mirror at Halsted and Diversey there slumps a striped shade lamp, and
though i cannot work out which quadrant of the canvassed street it
lies in, I creep closer each morning.

On Tuesday mornings, the coroners advise me of the futility of my search. Of the
striped shade mirror-lamp they say there is simply no evidence of life.
I remark on the
craven nature of their afterlifeless commentary, and they stumble
into the mirror's cracks
on Halsted and Diversey

Perhaps the sidewalk is hiding my lamp shade striped mirror in the strips of
caulk filling the cracks and preventing winter freeze and thaw from
shattering the concrete by my mirror

but, on Wednesday afternoons I find crippled ex-linemen lined with age and
linen shirted sons and daughters wheeling and walking to the steak house and
remembering

But they cannot properly manage it. In the slipstream of traffic another
motorcycle skids to a stop and, in the Mirror on Halsted and Diversey I notice
the shade lamp stripe has submerged itself in some darkened cranny and finally
has vanished

I am confident, that on Thursday evening another walker will be baffled in some similar way. But I will be gone by then.