Desire to Own a Cello 40

40 [Bone Hunter]

And sifting time through landslides,

what delights is strewn.

The symbol took

for fact, dry hope

remains

as fossil bone;

a jagged bit of jaw, unfurled

across my palm.

Almost a broken wing.

//

[And I, almost a giant,

nearly crush it in my hand.]

Desire to Own a Cello 39

39

I was meaning to say /

not even close to enough.

The choice: between naming and experience-

but what is it that you mean to name?

//

I sing a world into being, where

this, and everything
else, becomes luminous.

Desire to Own a Cello 38

38

A three penny moon and a tin

light, too weak,

[the thin whistle vibrato

to carry

cathedral organ ambition]

or a man unable

to warm

himself or her: clumsily reaches

for a hand, but she withdraws.

Desire to Own a Cello 37

37

The moon is salt.

Dried tear

to grate her cheek.

How I remember.

O / the quick

line of the meteor's flight is marred

by actual grief.

Dead

Moon, it's you the meek inherit.

Desire to Own a Cello 36

36 [A New Life]

You will have carved a past

from dry cheese.

Spores clumping on eyelashes

repel you,

mold reeks,

each pink membrane within you

will convulse,

poisoned

by what this past feeds.

Vibrant blue strychnine hairs.

Desire to Own a Cello 35

35 ["The Triumph of Self-Loathing"]

I am
the rot at the edge of the pages.
Dust

"having a perfect contempt"
for what it settles
on.

Desire to Own a Cello 34

34 [Language of Bees.]

A rhythm to the large beats / full

turn. Eyes left after buds,

whole scorched fields

frozen slick / dew-tipped black,

soot edges,

look I am looking too hard.

Red spider webbing veins.

//

Pollen of my annunciation

dusts this espresso.

I am worn

clean. Jittering

still. I am

what is left.

//

Nervous equilibrium w/ its alternate reading.