Poem 1982 (4)

Fall

 

Fall then voice
through dream-effects
from writing play
serpents of meaning
fall

Thrust among old verses
you know the style
understanding palls
but a poem yet calls
along words twisted trails
cramped coils in sound and spit
contortions flailing to flower
when two options
seem equally implausible
even minus lines that fail
the question is yes or
nothing at all

Fall
without loneliness
across imagined space
song raving an orbit
like some congealed face near Dog Star
on a slab of darkened air
sharp-stitched light
amid night
while constellations hum

Fall
where poets go to die
can we find those shores
do I see them lying
rhyme-drained
lacking sperm or egg
bards washed-up
lips still moving
a few bubbles more
froth between
bile and bladderwrack
beached now
our lemmings of the storm.

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