The host is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare; Caoilte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away: -“The Hosting of the Sidhe,” W. B. Yeats My mother spoke with the dead. After the doctors declared her cancer-free, she could feel and hear their ghosts, see them as clear as…
Yesterday’s snow falling again and already. Falling steadily among the vowels, the tall consonants. Alertnesses scumbling among the cabbages. The eyebrowed jay named by a man named for a star. Stellar’s. When I say the word the pleasure happens on my palate and I am never the same person again. Smoke. Granular. Piñon. Clouds slumping…
No dark field in which to wait No collapsed building How nothing we did exists Like a hiding spot where all get caught So what and then to do or to imagine, When a beating sound exists Like a ticking sound Against ourselves, past the subject As if hearing a distant conversation It’s not against…
Was wir nicht denken können, das können wir nicht denken; wir können also auch nicht sagen was wir nicht denken können —Wittgenstein A bewilderment, his wilting sense of betrayal, a wilderness— he composed the history of his own privacy. If you can’t imagine it you can’t think about it; you can’t talk about what you…
What is unremembered may be lodged she said a child may not recall but will act it out in play doll on ground face against tile see how he takes it by the hair by the foot by the tangled legs sweet mind made of tangled legs and a patterned dress oh…
Numbers scraping their heels all night in the attic above them. The accounting was necessary but brought them near death. Like a fountain emptying itself for the tourists. Couldn’t the woman in the restaurant in the booth in the semi- private room open her shirt? In one view the numbers represented his errors of…
Shadow of a bubble. Word, my world. One: it issues from a shadow’s mouth, shadow one carries where one goes. One goes alone and two go alone. Three: without the sun, there would be no picnic. No picnic, no shadow of a bubble. No word, no world. One: it issues from a shadow’s mouth, shadow…
In the new film, the subtitles make the picture blurry, but it is an old film. What is the same in any part of the world? A field. Trees at its edges. The figure approaching us. Inside, the plaster falls from the ceiling nightly. What is the other source of sound? The instrument was going…
In the shower linoleum then floorboards then earth in which the depths please send me away but see she cannot leave the house see what has been done is thorough like something a cloth has been rinsed in or used for tied across the eyes I have taken precautions leave no address…
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