EYE OF THE STAR
Choose the red kernel
beside your friend
who
also chooses red, makes you piqued
at red & nimble-picked with printed finger
red
from plastic bears the bright
wavering over the further city, placenta-
reflected
mauve assailing curtain.
In its own passing from movement to stillness
under
a foreign star the rock’s intrinsic
brightness laxes under the brush & only
tense
courses through the ligament.
Your father braves a mess of height
under
tiny yellow flowers that caress
the mountain envious—dear shock of your stern
mother
we ascended once in silence
as your father fingered the stone he found in a bush
while
urinating. I walked out toward
a taciturn-bright expanse, a dizzy grey, a dull
dull,
a bears-silence water silence
for its parent grey, the pacific shallow
paleness
back to brain of little
aesthetic love refaxed to callus at the fuzz-
shifted
sheen, thick veins on the trail-
strong instant. It flay banded there & pasted on
for
definition as we three oared air’s
wry boon, eschewed a lie, cape low & complaint
roiled
whimsy as white tennis shoes
marred by Oregon mud. Epithet: rime.
Rotary
rains within such spaces anchored
like a liquidated cheese, spectral. I think
of
winter, of its cool evening swathed
in constellation, star calculation, limb darkening
current
of debris, dust banded round
a galaxy, perhaps body? As I stitch together
passable
leather under dim luminosity
the salted buzz of sun decreased in kernels.
I
thought that space to be cold
skull on lash, leaden, I thought hammer
and
cephalopod, matter of knee
density cancelled, said so. Whipped-on
trash
heaps there but nothing
but nothing, red-cheeked, I witnessed
invention
burbling. Maul, I thought
laughter, our little stabilization.
Nothing,
northering. An entity cut, no inside
to dissect or penetrate, just two worms
trachea-splayed
on the trail, weakening
everyone cancered, I said, Anna
Why
don’t you answer me? In death
I fear the loss of knowledge
but
I suffused the mesh life gave and gained
more loss, that’s the secret.
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