la tête figée, le corps en avant

repetition. there is not despair in this, don't think that way. poise is necessary. how many times have you made these gestures, you must be doing it well by now. and then habit must build grace, and grace often an end in itself. stairs to nowhere. the fear again. no ends, please no finish. wind a circle into your hair, clasp your hands so that the line of the body does not break. don't fear the night, don't forget that you are just the unmoving point somewhere on the inside of another's orbit,

you are the moving point that never escapes the orbit of the other.


grey bird in a white grey sky. perched on the rooftop, even a pigeon can be king of everything.



and i who felt my soaring in your vertiginous crown
-- they say lost, not drowned.
dragged a horse from this well
rode it the twisting night
rode it hard and rode it ceaselessly
taking my bad roads, a
rotten steeple chase, the
unpaved desire inchoate.
rushed out of houses,
raw from cursing
my moorings and my rawness,
raw from cradling them.
more silent than a night with no sleep is
a night with no thought.
ride faster.
indistinguishable.
what is it they say about the human heart?
oh gnawing time, send me away further!