interweave #2

against the image of goldenshower
i apply my dereliction to you

untying knots of fountainspray,
backward dunes

unraveling after we read
the gaping verb, muscular node

asterisk become a planet, if
and this "if" of splendor

sinks back into its vertebrae,
where we crimp

burgeoning gardenias. Singular helix
of whitewash, and ice. Give me

sacrificial arteries, your eyelashes
brimming with winter

slender sores of the finite,
these were blood and bark,

slanting, gouged, labeled
yellow bruise as "dying"

peels, climbing interruption
the purest blank

speck of tongue sparkling
as consciously

on my cheek in shame
and what we do--

ever-filtered gallows,
you and i, parabolic,

artificial mappings of
copper-plated skies

Outside of the poem, it's bizarre

The lines I wrote taken out of the collaboration would be:

against the image of goldenshower
untying knots of fountainspray
unravel after we read the gaping verb,
an asterisk became a planet, if
splendor back into its vertebrae,
burgeoning gardenias. Singular helix of
and ice. Give me
sacrificial arteries, your eyelashes
were blood and bark
label a yellow bruise as "dying"
climbing and interruption the purest
speck of desire, your saliva sparkling
on my cheek in silent shame,
ever-filtered gallow
artificial mapping of

what distance could we contrive

against the image of goldenshower

to the fallible mists purpling

untying knots of fountainspray

friezes, what would you and i

unravel after we read the gaping verb,

mean, if somehow the ridges of

an asterisk became a planet, if

yesterday grew into us, scaling

splendor back into its vertebrae,

off our overturned wrists like

burgeoning gardenias. Singular helix of

iced-over fountains/free from

spectators and ice. Give me

Reading's foliage/that collage

of sacrificial arteries, your eyelashes

brimming with winter, auburns

already were blood and bark

stifled sealed over pockets we

label a yellow bruise as "dying"

sprint down toward, if i can find
you there and we can make a blaze
the stars would notice, isn't that

climbing and interruption the purest
speck of desire, your saliva sparkling
on my cheek in silent shame,

the only necessary even-quiet,

ever-filtered gallow

fleeting, as premise, preface

artificial mapping of,

to reflection?

as if hibernal

what distance could we contrive
to the fallible mists purpling
friezes, what would you and i
mean, if somehow the ridges of
yesterday grew into us, scaling
off our overturned wrists like
iced-over fountains/free from
Reading's foliage/that collage
brimming with winter, auburns
stifled sealed over pockets we
sprint down toward, if i can find
you there and we can make a blaze
the stars would notice, isn't that
the only necessary even-quiet,
fleeting, as premise, preface
to reflection?

After seeing a photograph of nothing in particular

At the mention
of distance,
your bones flower
into spores
and blank, fibrous
diamonds. What
gives? Cannon
ball. Belly
flop. Chisel stars
out of photographs
and string
a bracelet. Who
would you give
it to? I sparkle.
I focus. A cluster
of signatures
form a canopy. Banyon.
Fused above
and below.
Anatomical
circle, navel.
The eye
of storm and
the ridge
of shelf cloud.

Sanibel Circle

in the subarachnoid space
a polyp
transverse to you

after fluid
finds its lowest point
in the dura matter, after you

awake contused, parietal
in a private room
on the third floor

aseptic and vascularized,
the hallway
lit softly with triage

A revision

Per a great comment by Lorna on my other blog, a revision:

spear atmosphere

I dare to say (as the approaching comet
dares) that you have given
sound a spine brought

me given me
into stitches of hair
dust wool clay is red

your tongue is red
clay in a river bed awake
and speak clouding

over the black thread
lifts my eyelids
pupils and saturn

unlike any moon we carve
ecstasy out of lime
seeds small yellow

breath-puff a crystal
city on your breastplate
begin again

as the rain comes this perfection
and synapse a spitting
wind in a slew

of lightning bolts mistaken
for flashbulbs pop smoke
blue spots with trails
among planets

from here

choleric multitudes
orange horizons
baskets lowered

over iridescent
ponds, domes,
overpasses--

how far from earth
do they climb,
noiseless

islands rising
through oil-streaked
dawn