Tuesday, December 2, 2014

HEART THREAD Parts Seventy-Five and Seventy-Six


O the street the street is a hand that goes everywhere
why is there thistledown on your feet
I looked up mirror in the book it showed my face
but only as others see it liars and poets and thieves
maybe I also once stood beneath the cross
ponderous useless unable to help him
pointless witness of so much catastrophe
unless the act of witness has some meaning too
everything that happens waits to be observed
we are just iron filings summoned to its shape
soon enough dispersed and baffled ever after
but we know I saw this happen but I don’t know what this is.


Analysis is his vulture
browsing on human thought
write it down change it later pretend you know
pretend it’s living steal rose petals from the shore
you’re only borrowing the colors light lent them first
I spoke mentally you understood physically
what are all those prairies for
the linked absences that define sensibility
fervent mistakes “ambushes of young years”
but I knew no worse so did what I could
the shattered teapot the car too fast
so many pregnancies in the lost museum.