Having crossed the street
leaving behind vapor or vastness
the bulb shines on the pavement
a flat spangled instant
this road to a friend
whose skin of earth
tightens a delta by the edge of an eye
I see the determination of a tear
gliding by the cheek ,
so early a thought
before it becomes fire,
before the verb
flees as storm.
I remember everything in silence,
like flashes of a dance
inside the cave of shadows.
My friend whose skin of earth
coalesced into the Nile’s delta
we saw the tear fall to earth
like one imperfect meaning
The face was carved out Of sound and motion Vision was clay of river Through ages and lives His face was the platform Of transforming secret – I was a full body of beer Reeking smell of hallucination The concept of man Was the rustling leaf beyond the window? My friend and I Seeping into the occult layers of perception Like rats of laughter we followed the maze Unabashed by the terrible condition The flaky reality we were inventing At 6am of a holiday retreat As automaton, as passion The nude words of the intoxicated As free bullets Hunting the lie Of the self.
My madness began at seven Beautiful ineluctable madness The sun was over the horizon In wide strokes of light Painting my ribs: the tress The fields were windows Clear lucid germ of becoming My skin was everywhere Like an atmosphere of beams My song was the sadness The pain The burden The guilt In that bath of purity My mouth was full Swelling with The verb of awe