After Cole
Swensen’s poem “Fingers: Alignment” from The Book of a Hundred Hands (U of IA)
(Swensen’s poem is online at: http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/cole-swensen)
We (read I,
read the eye of the) cannot congregate
declare (I
do) the constellation (I’m bound to)
blind, blunder (I’ve always known it), but
blind, blunder (I’ve always known it), but
you have never
before (have you?)
complied
with the people I think I’ve seen every day,
complied
with the people I think I’ve seen every day,
(have I
seen, am I, and then to see is, at sea)
and then of
the people I
four or five days a month
four or five days a month
a mourning
those I say twice
I’ve known
(I have been known to)
(I know
you, too) by this.
Texture.
and then once, and then I knew (was known) by no one
Suddenly, you say, sudden
crowded
integrating
interiorate
catapult
integral
This is
just what I’d imagined
you knew
of sky, and my lost roads maps
wending our pathways out
you knew
of sky, and my lost roads maps
wending our pathways out
overt
gardens, overt landscapes scraped
shaped into
his gardens
(you do
know who I speak of? Ours, and hours)
I hear my
voice
(yours)
This is an
echo
this echo is this
this echo is this
is echo’s
attempt to speak
etc.
I’m (she
is) (you are) (we may be becoming) blind,
so
who can only see me
within their hands?
within their hands?
.
No comments:
Post a Comment