I set to work on the healing loom I let the loom-weights fall I let the loom-weights stutter.In the dark they spoke indifferently about suffering.In the dark they may have been something else entirely but I was not with them in the dark.I washed my face it was morning the flowers like flayed hands. Whose …
Listen to GC Waldrep read the poem: Haruspexy at field’s edge.The unwritten soulstitches it into the fringeof its garment,I mean the image of it.We are told nothing, really.It’s a worldsweeping the bridefrom the hospital tiles.A snowstorm’s on its way.The field, vs.the known planets& the hospitals they succor.At the marginsof the statutory seasonof ancestral suffering,a gun …
Blank peal of a glass door in the archive of memory,you want nothing or you fear nothing, breath is the daughteryou never had. Escape offers its temporary attention, gazeset permanently on some middle distance at which a bridgecan be made out, dimly, to burn. I stepped ontothe archaeological site with a confidence borne of schematicsmy …