To earth we Shall return though now We’re of none: The mountains not ours To save Only parks put us off the scent Of silted water — smoke overcoming Mineral keenness in the breath — “Appalachian tang”: A yellow one swims circumference.
All glass used to be green glass–green seas not just sea–glass Summer beer sea wracks away Appalachia Used to be green in the future now when we Hold up a glass and look we’ll see class. Cole would have it that if I cry then I’m frameless As tears as air bubbles in windows or angels are And what’s my carriage if not an anchoring of… [Read More]
Why lampoon larboard? It’s a lovely word; it doesn’t fatally lodge—well, colonialism, OK, anyway, the point is I like it; is it low self-esteem, posturing, or plain sense makes me find that reason inadequate? In the 7th century, the 11th, 16th, 19th, 20th, 21st: blossoms—believing barbarism’s made True when made practice—constitutes the constitution if God… [Read More]
Blue stroked into a coast—brown and white and ochre into cliffs daredevils jump off and swim into a cove or a boat if life becomes such that if you filmed the scene there’d be a beer commercial. Cranes fly over cranes in the Ukraine which, to sing a logic, not much else, no principle, a… [Read More]