#350 - daywash

18.xii.20

350

daywash

(Markwell headlines)

 

I love to look into a pond

and make a corridor of breezes

for

frantic week

and the rose unpetalled

just

days of the sacred air

the insect air alive

blue after

 

go on about this daywash that

 

somebody’s landed

one’s taking off

 

vector, arc and curl the empty

 

everyday’s a perfect day

in paradise we all say

comes in its own season too

 

hymn and the high words

tricks of a tune enchorded

strum!

 

empty pockets!

lush principle

of jungle, sun

 

let go

and here’s the big

weather

empties out the page

now fills                                                                                                       

 

travelling of cloud is fresh phenomenon

may we all be towards

 

drift

see the creek because the rain

Christmas is coming anyway

 

there are empirical gifts

upside down

eye compounded

twitch antennae

how’s mum?

 

I watch one I’ll never know

take off from the rail

all thrust from nothing

wings faster than

 

under skin one day senses come to

 

will coal be stopped by incantation?

always a ghost at the end of the line

 

a lovely resistance

the silken swim

salty all as if the sea

 

we’re numinous with love today

it’s wrong that the dark should spin

 

I love to look into the week

and see where we will be

pond prink

                                       

it’s ballet with as if

still sing

 

in paradise we all say

the everyday’s a perfect day

here come wake

not again

 

but touch

 

hijack own head

must be – the cows come home

and roost and crow

crawl beetle

peck and down we go

and through and to

 

where there’s life

(please not too much

of the human kind)

cause humans are too much