Friday, December 12, 2014

HEART THREAD Parts Ninety-Four and Ninety-Five


This is what happens to music when it starts telling stories
how could it not be that’s why I grew up with
Franz Kline sunrise over East River a girl from Ecuador
I saw the color size of a man’s reach
stories fall out of the light
tells them into new situations:  these are the colors
all the way from red to violet and beyond
I come from Tenth Street just like everybody else
another fin another siècle the boys come marching home
the girls run away through the apple blossoms
nothing changes the sickle sweeps the moon away
the dark mumbles stories to its lone self.

Lay so nary hiding in her underpass
heed here such traffic over who in arches dwell
failing Lascaux, we did it for the silence
no air no sound or molecules of meaning
less plausible than spirit kinds
some unregistered messengers of sense
I touch you now despite the faraway
for every skin is weeks away as India
no matter where the boat is going
there is a better way of getting there
takes longer tastes more pleasure on the way
queen of heaven in her mandorla slips into every me.