1.
I lay it down
to the hardscrabble
morning, perforated
by dream’s last
embers : night ground
to grist & pitch in
unsprawled shadows, morning
a multifoliate
lowing, morning
an approaching
shoal my moldering
tongue trundles
into a single pearl
2.
morning an act
of encapsulating :
retain
the oblong sky,
retain the tor
morning makes you
long for, retain
each patina
your body
wears between
the blinds,
retain skimmings
of mineral darkness
slagged off
in the ditches
3.
do you believe
in the supernal
morning : blithe
de-reconstruction,
light a salve,
a rising save,
a clot, a self,
a crescent soaked
heavy & retching
into a holler
of pines
4.
do you believe
in the pitching
yarrow, its lace
dipping in & out of
color, as anything
other than
or beyond itself
5.
questions
capsules too which
immediately
dissolve : sepals
open, mind
a crapshoot,
a fistful
of hayseed,
forget-me-nots,
gravel under
rubber click
clicks like clock
-work heart-time
6.
interrupted in the
elongation
of morning : flint
& strike, cinch
shape down,
up-to-the-hilt
the chirr that
undeeps the green :
do not ask do you
believe, rather
unclot the question
& watch its noxious
pulse pigment
the tawny
lesions where
you might
dig yourself
a new dream