Breathturn into Timestead (17 page)

Who now works the bellows of the peatorgan, one-

legged, will

win a strongstream

loss.

 

 

I
N TIME'S CORNER
the

unveiled alder swears

under its breath,

on earth's back, wide as a hand,

crouches the shot-through

lung,

at the field's boundary the

winghour picks the snowcorn

from its own stone-eye,

lightbands set me afire,

crown-damages flicker.

 

 

M
E TOO
, who am born like you, no hand holds,

and none throws me a happiness into the hour, no different from you,

dipped like I into bull's blood,

yet the numbers stand ready to light the tear,

leaping into the world

from our navel,

yet what came near us, singly,

enters the great syllable-script,

and the almond-testicle

thunders

and blooms.

 

 

T
HE BACKWARDSPOKEN

names, all,

the outmost, whinnied

into kinghood

before hoarfrost-mirrors,

beleaguered, besieged

by multiple births,

the merlon-cleft through it,

which means you, isolato,

also.

 

 

G
RADUALLY CLOWNFACED

nothingmirrored,

the cosmetics, truth, frozen blue

in the angle-mouth,

frostpollen powder on the blank superskull,

round about the thin questionlock Black,

the brows, the brows: growing,

two giant feelercombs, two

—you, tall-streaked,

large-felt roughnight Alwaysalways—,

already swung away from the flake world,

not to, not fro.

 

 

R
OADBLOCKBUOY LANGUAGE
, roadblockbuoy song.

The steamroller thrumps

the second

Iliad

into the torn-up

pavement,

sandseamed

the old images

surprise themselves, into the gutter,

the warriors bleed to death oily

in silver puddles, on the road-

side, thudding,

Troy, dust-crowned,

gets it.

 

 

T
O FLY UNDER

the flood, past

raised black

sacrifice stones,

unendingly earthed melancholy

in the

undercarriage shafts,

drunken flightwriters on

the yearning-slope,

future found objects, silvery,

in

the cockpit's skullery,

sight tunnels, blown

into the speechfog,

self-sparkflowers

on all cables,

in the great, unextended

rimring your

hubbed shadow,

Saturn.

 

 

VI

D
ELUSIONSTALKER EYES
: in you

end up the rest of the gazes.

A single

flood

swills up.

Soon you brighten

the rock to death, on which they

have

bet, against

themselves.

 

 

U
NWIELDY MORROW
,

I bite myself into you, I silence myself at you,

we resound,

alone,

the pastose

eternity-chimes drip away,

squawked through

by today's

yesterday,

we drive,

grandly

does the last soundbell

take us in:

the accelerated heartstep

outside

in space,

near her, the earth-

axis.

 

 

N
OTEPAPER-PAIN
,

besnowed, oversnowed:

in the calendargap

he's cradled, he's cradled

by the newborn

nothing.

 

 

S
TREW OCHER
into my eyes:

you no longer

live there,

save

on the tomb-

furnishings, save,

pace off the stonerows,

on your hands,

with their dream

paint over the

stamped-out

temporal bone's squama,

at the

great

bifurcation re-

count yourself to the ocher

three times, nine times.

 

 

S
WANDANGER
,

grebe-

threat,

the icelashed with

kraken-

arms,

you, clawed

Yakut-

Pushkin:

Hei, Chebeldei, Chebeldei.

 

 

L
EAPCENTURIES
, leap-

seconds, leap-

births, novembering, leap-

deaths,

stocked in honeycomb-troughs,

bits

on chips,

the menorah-poem from Berlin,

(Unasylumed, un-

archived, un-

cared for? A

-live?),

reading stations in the late-word,

dotted pilotlights line

the sky,

crestlines under fire,

feelings, frost-

spindled,

cold start—

with hemoglobin.

 

 

S
OURCEPOINTS
, at night,

on the expressways,

expectant of the gods,

your foothills, Brainmountain,

in the heart-you,

by them

foamed around.

 

 

T
REKSCOWTIME
,

the halftransformed pull

at one of the worlds,

the diselevated one, interiorized,

speaks under the foreheads on the bank:

Quits with death, quits with

God.

 

 

Y
OU BE LIKE YOU
, always.

Stant up Jherosalem inde

erheyff dich

Even he who cut the band with you,

inde wirt

erluchtet

tied it anew, in the gehugnis,

mudclots I swallowed, in the tower,

language, dark pilaster strip,

kumi

ori.

 

 

D
O NOT WORK AHEAD
,

do not send out,

stand

inward:

transgrounded by the void,

free of all

prayer,

fine-fugued, according to

Writ's pre-Script,

not overtakable,

I take you in,

instead of any

rest.

Snowpart

I

U
NWASHED, UNPAINTED
,

in Hereafter's

pithead:

there

where we find ourselves,

Earthy, always,

a

belated

bucket conveyor pierces

us cloudtorn,

upward, downward,

seditious

piping inside, on Fool's

legs,

the flightshadow in

the iridescing round

heals us in, into seven-

heighth,

ice-age-close

the feltswan pair steers

through the hovering

stone-icon

 

 

Y
OU LIE
in the great listening,

ambushed, snowed in.

Go to the Spree, go to the Havel,

go to the butcher hooks,

to the red apple stakes

from Sweden—

Here comes the table with the presents,

he turns around an Eden—

The man became a sieve, the woman

had to swim, the sow,

for herself, for none, for everyone—

The Landwehr canal will not roar.

Nothing

                stalls.

 

 

L
ILAC AIR
with yellow windowstains,

Orion's belt above the

Anhalter ruin,

flamehour, nothing

intercurrent yet,

from

standing bar to

snow bar.

 

 

W
ELLDIGGER
in the wind:

someone will play the viola, day downward, in the alehouse,

someone will stand on his head in the word Enough,

someone will hang crosslegged in the gateway, next to the winch.

This year

does not roar across,

it throws back December, November,

it turns up its wounds,

it opens up to you, young

grave-

well,

twelvemouth.

 

 

T
HE BREACHED YEAR

with the moldering crust

delusion bread.

Drink

from my mouth.

 

 

U
NREADABILITY
of this

world. Everything doubles.

The strong clocks

agree with the fissure-hour,

hoarsely.

You, wedged into your deepest,

climb out of yourself

forever.

 

 

W
HORISH ELSE
. And eternity

bloodblack circumbabeled.

Mudflood-swamped

by your loamy locks,

my faith.

Two fingers, far from the hand,

a-row the moory

oath.

 

 

W
HAT SEWS

at this voice? On what

does this

voice

sew

hither, beyond?

The chasms are

sworn in on White, from them

arose

the snowneedle,

swallow it,

you order the world,

that counts

as much as nine names,

named on knees,

tumuli, tumuli,

you

hill away, alive,

come

into the kiss,

a flip of the fin,

steady,

lights up the bays,

you drop

anchor, your shadow

strips you off on the bush,

arrival,

descent,

a chafer recognizes you,

you approach

each other,

caterpillars

spin you in,

the Great

Sphere

grants you passage through,

soon

the leaf buttons its vein to yours,

sparks

have to cross through

for the length of a breathdistress,

you are entitled to a tree, a day,

it decodes the number,

a word with all its green

enters itself, transplants itself,

follow it

 

 

I
HEAR THE AXE HAS BLOSSOMED
,

I hear the place is unnamable,

I hear the bread that looks at him

heals the hanged man,

the bread the woman baked for him,

I hear they call life

the only shelter.

 

 

W
ITH THE VOICE OF THE FIELDMOUSE

you squeak up,

a sharp

clamp,

you bite through the shirt into my skin,

a cloth,

you slide across my mouth,

midway through my

words weighing you, shadow,

down.

 

 

I
N LIZARD
-

skins, Epi-

leptic one,

I bed you, on the cornices,

the gable-

holes

bury us, with lightdung.

 

 

S
NOWPART
, arched, to the last,

in the updraft, before

the forever dewindowed

huts:

flatdreams skip

over the

chamfered ice;

to carve out

the wordshadows, to stack them

around the cramp

in the crater.

 

 

II

T
HE TO-BE-RESTUTTERED WORLD
,

whose guest I

will have been, a name,

sweated down the wall,

up which a wound licks.

 

 

Y
OU WITH THE DARKNESS SLINGSHOT
,

you with the stone:

it is overevening,

I light behind myself.

Take me down,

be serious about

us.

 

 

E
NJANUARIED

in the thorned

rockshelter. (Get drunk

and call it

Paris.)

The shoulder, freezesealed;

immobile

tawdry owls on it;

letters between the toes;

certainty.

 

 

B
E SLOPPY
, Pain,

don't slap her face

you yourself botch

the sand boil in

the white Beside.

 

 

P
ARCELED GOODS
baked,

groschen-size, from

over-ripe light;

desperation thrown in,

scatter-grit;

lifted up onto the rail, the full

shadow-wheel truck.

 

 

F
ROM ABEAM

come in, as the night,

the jury rig

billows,

enshrined

aboard

is your scream,

you were there, you are below,

down below you are,

I go, I go with the fingers

from me,

to see you,

with the fingers, you, the One Below,

the arm stumps run riot,

the beacon thinks

for the single-

star sky,

with the sword keel

I pick you up.

 

 

W
OODFACED
,

slackmawed

fool above the treadwheel:

from your earlobe

hangs and

hops your eye,

greened.

 

 

LARGO

Thought-sister, heath stroll close:

sur-