ἀρετή

 

II

In this valley that knows nothing but sorrow and hail I marched battered, hands over skull to salvage my brain. They said take that bridge to the...

III

Even in darkness you see clearly the hands behind your hands weaving a winceyette robe you can't bear to wear. Or look at, for looking and doing are...

IV

What paradox describes your voice that though never sentenced dead was buried in my garden, black damp earth ever untended. How is this your voice,...

V

There is none of you on the beach only pebbles shells fragments each day the sea will rearrange their pattern. This city is the same. Homes tenements...

VI

My love poems are paper boats of agony that voyage to a woman and back ferrying clotted chronicles of failure. I'm not here for chronicles but to...

VII

Hold my hand the way you would a broken wing in its lines is a blueprint for writing and flying. I was volitant, I was free, so why these shackles...
Cherry

VIII

The artist's wrist does not shake or perhaps it shakes only on canvases past painting where the eye grows dim. I am no artist my wrists shake like a...

IX

Stone and cathedral it is raining on your thin bridge clouds a procession the sky a great funeral of light. Midbridge my hands open I drop into the...

X

Everything that falls falls in patterns amenable to an equal geometry of whose functions I know everything, or perhaps nothing. The object of descent...
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XI

In my backyard the noble form of a deer kneeling spent twenty years dying from the arrow in its liver. In my room an owl perched impassive he is...

XII

Not this city but the language encrypted within my body must be the silent exegete of my glory and ruin. The timocracy of monuments does not guide me...

XIII

My heart is an hourglass and the sand it contains was sifted from an ancient desert where everything was true. City as desert: extreme moral...

XIV

I used to be fond of airports but not anymore. Brands stickers duty-free offers you never truly fly away. Have I become unirradiated of the love of...

XV

City as ocean: streets that overlap like waves, unsunk Atlantis, cultures calcified into coral reef. I have left that behind. And I walked probing...

XVI

Thrills are greater in expectation than revelation, this is true for everything in the world's compendium and even for gods. Yet gods are no less...

XVII

I have seen God, she passed and rested her eye on my heart and I don't know what she thought. Nor did she speak. Confronting that pregnant silence I...
Cherry

XVIII

I came such a long way past the city gates over the insomniac's bridge rested in the port of fireflies. I journeyed sunstruck hallucinating trailing...
Cherry

XX

My darling, my voice, I would sit here with you until my body exhausts its reserves of sense and numbness. But I already know you will leave or I...