ReRites (I go in a dream) [June 2017]

I go in a dream, I am leeward. I walk. Yet as I share myself: I see no end to the reverberating deluded wine of blood in things. I see this debatable light. I join the light. The lawns of zero pattern into a no-name light Where the sun is pink and new And I am very tired and still, specific and glad. We have started to sleep in vast consolations And sweeten the grace in our stride To live in the photograph on the door Lying motionless, aloof, kissed by night. UNTIL The star Rivers and sails hang their flowers in nets To withstand the bitter vale the plaintive mouse Confines light by a looping Carved into old windowsills Entabulature you contend for your first mind. Maybe. We thought we knew of how seizures constitute an anti-world: Nothing the mind and ever I am. An angel able to sing wants. THEY ARE NOT MUCH FIERCELY not stone but slumber in the shore Alone, living on random hope And the delight of tears burning Within tired electrical hands The beauty of lilies mining the tallest sea. Thou art of me, listening, in their presence, Where I plant eloquence to keep Your heart. Havoc before the Unreflecting driftwood machinery, the old mothers in a circle, and lascivious cathedrals laughter immediately never turning Band-Aid, looping weightless clocks, mid-career Odes: Spring Oaks XII Leaves cooked: prepositions, toilets and monocles.