for h.z.l.
My old habit attenuates an inner liquor or sigh.
Description sets up a distribution of effect
animals’ furred ruffs may also cherish
Description demands its transformation to the letters,
the world did not conform to description
with immediacy
as light is solved. “When I wake up, you are still
sleeping.” The present tense herein invests
a simultaneity of affect
Ameliorates an absence
But the problems of description continue
The various sub-scopes of envision forest an extreme,
or obligation
Largely a travesty can possess,
or murmur
A night with no brink
trope assignation making us plural
who “us” are
willed places destine
We hesitant before longing
Now someone has uttered the word “Boltanski” in a yellow kitchen
Is this the form our grief has taken
A wide memory is ours, is ours
A terrace tiès jaunt to be traversed before waking
Sirop of such trees, a clamber out
of sleep or waking
A far journey is ours, is ours
this much is clear from the terrible story
Their leaves red words for
Impediment a hoarse or cry
An imagine does indicate or where
False gestures submerge us
Astonish me a core of blood
Trying to stick in this course to the “believable”
our ephemeron does so compel me
The present tense is my imbroglio
my nymphic ore
dilatory or sonorous
a mediate or
Writing the lines called Grief, or Sweetness
& wanting your green-hazed name
I have told you the story of a small red shoe
Most of the time it is irreplaceable
A far journey is ours, is ours
That much is clear from the terrible story
It is the saga of a small red shoe
the journey itself is unmistakable
Most of the time it is a word that shatters all
That much is clear from the trembulous forage
Now someone has uttered the host “Boltanski” in a metal kitchen
Is this the tree of grief mistaken
the marsh outside yr eye & hand where hawks did wander
their shadows moved you
in that metal kitchen
…
…
That much is clear from the torporous alloy
Most of the time it is a shoe that shatters all*