Entering the Poetry
Palace wall .........when I pass through
...........................you open the Imperial Mouth and Ear, doors
...........................of basalt under magnolia's fire-flowers.
...........................Thank you host, sharing the architect's measurements,
the squares .........the water channels of security for their own silence
...........................and that which is supposed to be saved from
...........................lower intrigue and gossip. To get inside, air instantaneously
...........................converts not yet formed matter into a lighted sculpture;
something ..........for long anticipated to happen, awaits. It seems
...........................attended. Between floor and pine ceiling
...........................rests the patience of January's snowy white. (The energy
...........................of a poem in a state of line-searching.)
Breath ................meanwhile in and out, nourishes
...........................the New Dialogue, the dogma-in-waiting.
...........................During deeper questions, questioning themselves,
...........................guests celebrate the invitation. Poems leave their notation
into ....................the singers' mouth, in the direction toward their Majesties
...........................and back from wooden walls, the acoustic is timing its echoes.
...........................Voices go far for a swim in space,
inviting ...............the projected pitch for a return; bathed,
...........................we bow for a long time, consulting rug-pattern, soil, icy fluids,
...........................magma and gravity. Magnetized, those eyes stay
...........................on their journey. Backbones are in no hurry to straighten up.
Proceed to
Wednesday January 14, 1998.
