Mar 26, 2006


Back to back with the water.
Akimbo on the taut surface here
where there is surface alone.

Cells plumb the murk inside
where lurks the want
that will raise fingers of turf
from the stony core below.
(Taupe shell
of an almond)

Here get:

40 winks 40 lashes
40 days upon the water

& God moves upon these, typical:
the dopplered drone of a marching band
when there is no marching band.

The surface bends to the Word,
black mirror that mirrors
the spangled firmament (sequins
on a dark plush dress). There is
no dress. No will
or want.

No archipelago dumpling-dripped
on the plastic depths, no face--
but motion. The surface moves
to forget the sky, the word
written in water with the knife of
God. No knife. No water:

Scapula parentheses.
(A surface ) Turning
away from you.

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