#1228 - tribe of my lines

 

1228

13.v.23

4.133

tribe of my lines

ekphrastic for Ioan Aurel Mureşan’s 1981-2 ‘Papirus’

 

and not all are

 

it is into this dark I love

and cast

the figure of a signature

 

and sometimes here throw face

or dig

lift

blur

 

as if from the machine released

 

some come dizzy

to witness air’s depth

 

this as to have been then

 

how canvas soaks

trumpets for stars

 

a true black line

makes grey beside

 

I love a stain well spread

 

call quadrants

as if sky were

a wall will not lie flat

 

must be out of the frame in order

might flit

might remain

 

whichever way

 

we consist entirely of corners

 

one has to have written against the script

 

zombie heads, asterisks

stray whiskers

 

by the end of an instance uttered

all must forget to begin

 

it’s thus

come crashing to Earth again