Sunday, December 31, 2000

Out
the Peace
he found
an earthly
outcropping.
Out a piece
then you find
an earthly
outcropping,
a dugout
of the day.
Dog-bite moons
avoid night;
dark dastard
meteors staunch
carbonized canticles.
Gaze, reticent
void, onto
barren speckles
of light. Under
you straining
bodies falter,
lay in mercy to
forty-eight
orders of law.
A dark and
complex
clumsiness,
out of which
you define a
single cluster,
rules behavior.
The weakness
spreads over
the bare skin
of her fictions.
She begins
visible,
so that
it defines
many but
ends with
and without any,
a tabula rasa.

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