it the year.
Sense impressions, if they are this,
are only images
of what we refuse to follow.
23
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LA DOUCE MER

Too greedy hormonal levels,
savouring drives and swooned walrus tusks
behind the deep belly
of tireless sea,
propel ocean crates
looser for their water
than blood
to devour cavernous shores,
swilling miniature inland
sweet water seas that
father Champlain called
douce mer lakes;
dubbing there a blow for courage.
24
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GOURDS
A cemetery overgrown
such that each tombstone is a pauper fungus
crowded, dark with leaves,
or hollow gourds hideous,
in a forest sleep.
25
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RESIGNATION

Petals that fall into a woodland pool
are servers at a banquet.
Each one dresses for the occasion
like an employee with regrets,
that leaves the house in a somber mood
the morning after his resignation.
26
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THE BREATH OF CANDLES

The breath of candles,
hot and murky,
on the still air.

Giant factories wave wands
in luxury;
contaminate roving commuter bands
brown, from dirt knitted through white bread hair.
27
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GREEN EYE SHIELDS

I have stars drying in my eyes.
Heavy seas, in wind.
They have sealed me from the heavy
dragging sockets, otherwise my green eye shields.

I have scars all over my eyes,
to bear the horrible imaginings
that try to come through.

The horror of being alive.
The crusty scenes that pry into trees
glide down, touch me,
a glitter of awful gold steals me,
in its triumph of glow.
28
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INVESTITURE

Our nights have cruel eyes
And have cast us about too thinly,
Fallen upon us,
Divested the attention of the wind.

Night comes to develop us,
Will polish our minds with
A precision lasting 'til daybreak.
Its damp coolness peaks with wretched effect.

Autumnal decay
Whereby the slow process of vegetation
Displeases the nostril,
Is but a preamble to greater violence
Leading tepid legislation in an orchestra
Toward greater effect.

The thin harmony of our lives
Positions no alarms whereby
We might use them.

The fabric mixture of existence, nothing but investiture,
Props to heighten necessary lies,
Strain