Wednesday, July 16, 2008


Nearness--- who has lost his eyes and his feet
can enter the other world, can feel the warmth of it
bearing against his body as a knowledge half-understood,

understanding only that he’s come to an end,
or the purgatory of ends, always in a language,
which knows nothing of him.

Hers was the wound that lost him to the wandering,
shut out--- an eye before light, given over
to the world of pure gesture as a body immersed in water,

but if he could take himself by the hand he would know
the same pity for the damned in which the murderer
returns to sing the requiem.

Saturday, July 12, 2008


for M.H.

It is not your face to emerge through the door, nor 
your voice yet to stricken my day with its toll,

and, till then, not to you to whom I offer
my animal semblance of song,  my howl, 

bearing not the matter of its lament
to magnify, the fact of its master's tongue---

therefore I pause here, dumb and terrified, 
though you still seem a dreamy proximity,

knowing tomorrow would wake me
in fire, if you deigned enter my day.