Tuesday, August 31, 2004


Of the Oriental Five Blessings,
Longevity, wealth, serenity, virtue, and an easy death,
One material, four abstract.

Monday, August 30, 2004


Fev'rish gods take down the world behind,
Erect some certain thing in front,
The noia is presumably the not-quite-perfect stealth
     of their labour.

Sunday, August 29, 2004


Of Electra

Asleep, she is all of her times at the once,
They amalgamate, and the requirement is for some higher
     narrator to call them her,
Asleep, calamitous rides, far lighthouse gleams, minuets
     important then,
Asleep, licences, disputes, dishonest fabilieux, sleek dace
     turned uppermost in the stream,

Compressed by the grand outside to be circles in circles
Observant of herself
Observant of all others in their foreign activitys
Impressions gained
Circles concentric, the siege walls.

Saturday, August 28, 2004


There ‘s a hitch to the doing of miracles, even if the
     process is natural they cannot be undone,
We live among these stubborn miracles, that we wou'd
     walk away from if we cou’d.

Friday, August 27, 2004


What say the windows in these white walls, when the
     sky is utter cumulus of white?
A wink with a blind eye signifying nothing.

Thursday, August 26, 2004


Electra, with maleficence, to Orestes:
—What scares you of the virtuoso?

—That they are perfect, but they are never whole.

—I am frightened by a world in which the most talented
     are the most damaged.

—And I am frightened by their attempt to go naked
     in their singularity.

—But I say that Deus is more frightened by the virtuoso
     than ever was any human.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004


At twilight, when the sights evinced are half-intense in
     various blues and indigos
And not dependable,
Dionysus rides, Dionysus of the fixed idea,
Who rams the glass hard to the corners of his mouth,
Who darkly swallows obsession to match obsession, in the
     idea they must neutralize.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004


The great city of Alba, surely, is a person—
However, one unfamiliar with her denizens.

Monday, August 23, 2004


Sometimes I forget the slavery in a community requires,
Each son agrees, each daughter keeps the faith,
They go in chains of luxurious silk.

Sometimes I forget the peril a community brings,
Each son agrees, each daughter keeps the faith,
Their shrunken heads are sewn to the Jivaro’s belt.

Sunday, August 22, 2004


Said Ajax on his return, obsessed almost wise,
—See the coastlines that make Alba in its region,
What the Lord hath writ, I ‘ll vehemently take hold,
I ‘ll heave against those affronting scrawls, those
     infant efforts,
I ‘ll haul the coastlines straight, this world requires
     its cleansing.

Saturday, August 21, 2004


So humans are composed of nature, soft nature,
And Deus & Dione fall as rain, or whitened manna snow,
     as pesticide or fertilizer depending.

Friday, August 20, 2004


Regarding the fruit of the tree, lustrous sin, appealing sin, two
     I saw in Eden,
Playful and without care,
I saw an Eve blameless, and an Adam blameless,
Saw them alive without dismay,
These are not first parents, these are first children.

Thursday, August 19, 2004


I create a melancholy, so Jacobean and modish,
I am the implacable hawk, hung in the sky without ripple
     of spectacle,
I create an air of menace, richly flavoured,
Monsters fear to attack me, until I bid them come.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004


On a lapis sea, perhaps the lascivious Terrene sea,
On wavelets made scintillant at their peaks by sunlight
Bellerophon floats and freewheel drifts.
Microclime winds and currents will carry him far,
Without a need to be quenched by his arrival.

To the wharf, the stevedores haul the jetsam intercepted,
Lost these many years, a hulk, a huddle,
A man drowned, too weak for the immensitys of the sea.
Back in worming rivulets to its aggregate, the ocean drains
Between the wooden boards, leaving black ignorance,
As the last of sleep is gone from him.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004


A pearl may be dissolved in the juice of a lemon,
An emerald is easily shattered on the ground, even a diamond too
     at times,
Gold can gain or lose in an afternoon,
While silver can be rubbed thin, losing its weight to the cloth, or
     take a tarnish from the sulphur in the air,
That morals are equally mutable, even to melting down and
     making anew, is gratifying.

Monday, August 16, 2004


Deus harvests the weak—and why shou’d He take
     such pleasure in so pitiable a harvest?

Sunday, August 15, 2004


I am the Ark of the Covenant, the tablets of the Law inside
When the covenant is broken I feel it as a distinct sickness
And if the Ark despoiled, the people despatched to Babylon,
When, by press of power, the scales are held permanently
     against me, inconsolable, I become mad.

Saturday, August 14, 2004


With portico of grey and columniation stark against the foe,
     this unbent magnificence, which took down Galileo, down
And handed death to the insolent fool Socrates,
This courthouse is, and whether the felons and thieves
Who pass from street to prison through, were
Or were not, its potent demonstration wou’d have to be.

Friday, August 13, 2004


When comes the winter of a human, and the former lords return,
Dragging back to the scholar, freshgreen and laden with books,
What beacons lit?
What unseen lands explored?
Any diamonds in the audit are covered by sterile snow.

So, says Bellerophon, child of war:
I will eye the old for the gall they perpetrate,
In fact, I will consider all for their mirror.

Thursday, August 12, 2004


It would be libidinous to feel the trickle of time if contrition were
     part of the divine chromosome
And some final apology were available at the last—
But instead this is a voyage of reprimand and reproach,
And the approaching port an apprehension.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004


Of their cardinal virtues,
I know that their hope bears a strong resemblance to their greed,
And that their faith moves never very far from prejudice,
But Caritas, even without vanity, is conditional and complex, how
     the volition might receive the subtle sights of cases deserving of
     her care.
Perhaps this, another thing of belonging,
Their charity begins at customs out, and not at home,
Because there can be none in this fair land who does not share in its

Tuesday, August 10, 2004


Caulked selfish, I have to be, against receipt of love,
And if the donation of love must lapse in concert, then so be it.
Siegfried is not an interesting figure until he has my blood,
The type who owns the perversity, the impudence, the audacious
     friponnerie, a controlled intoxication,
Only a one freer than Wotan.

Monday, August 09, 2004


My vehemence has destroyed my return,
Footfalls flamed the planks to ashes beneath,
As over the bridges I ran, too fast to be tumbled myself,
Until, in my career, I needed no bridge.

Sunday, August 08, 2004


Achilles, whom others called cruel, said this:
There are many days in a life, many turnings in the world, and on
     a day of mundane action;
Nothing to presage that day above its two neighbours;
During its afternoon, with the sun threequarters ready to touch
     her ocean baths,
Death will come to the son of Peleus. A single arrow sniping,
     loosed without great plan,
Will pierce his chest; and maybe he feels his heart tapping against
     the wooden pole atime,
As if this last muscle attempts to repulse the threat,
But after that, he said, Achilles will be dead.

Saturday, August 07, 2004


Always, I suppose it unlucky to be born,
But am kind towards those of the opposite view,
Who labour long under their disadvantage.

Friday, August 06, 2004


A black and turquoise dragonfly alit on aspen leaf, resplendent
     of his gauzy wing,
Only for the thorax to shuddering split and a malodorous grub
     crawl out upon the world;
So is the collision of sex and death.

Thursday, August 05, 2004


Says Orestes,
—Tyranny I oppose, because once I was weak,

But Electra, made into his enemy, replys,
—Once all were weak, and some become tyrants,

While both of them look up against the same Orion
     of the sky.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004


The parallax of Orestes, and how to keep the two worlds
That bitter flintstrewn valley, authentic, unbearable,
And, comfort, that speck on the map of which he is Potentate,
Surrounded by riches, sandalwood and sardonyx,
Magnificence unprepared, unearned, before the end of the road.
Two that refuse to coincide,
Two that will never find a resonance,
Their moorings struck, a mishmash of umbra, penumbra and
     their doubled confusions.

Tuesday, August 03, 2004


Faith, yes, faith—if just the slightest once my hand cou’d
     slip into their wallets,
And feel the cold uncirculated coin.

Monday, August 02, 2004


We meander among the mistakes of the Lord,
Paths sawn-off by cliff-edge drops,
Marshes that snare the traveller to disease,
Wide tundra devoid of natural life in any possibility;

Areas awaiting His construction,
All the non sequiturs that unravel His universe if thought
     about too much;
Polite it would be not mention His embarrassment,
Though the fault seems a striving for perfection.

Give us, we petition you, Prometheus,
Pallid and introspective where the Lord is brash,
A world more guarded, pragmatic more,
A field to suit the human above the immortal.

Sunday, August 01, 2004


With stylus I cou’d tick through the Decalogue my wickedness,
     primus, secundus, tertius, through five,
To reach, by mortal dispensation, the second five,
     which are the same.