Then it all stops.
Craters of the essays,
how they resemble their fathers,
kiss the feet of the Virgin Mary.
Anxiety crystal flower, crystal flower
anxiety, anxiety
crystalline flower.
You Have an horrible writing, says Stina.
days lying in the sun and fragrant, fresh laundry
early in the morning
straight trunks with moss and vocal
light traps, nests hidden items,
fine booty. April is the cruelest
month, says the poet.
is still missing a little.
Rabal The nano will not see my outstretched hands, today.
just a few syllables to start over.
What is important is to find a sign in the forest
alphabets.
"I Lish of Uruk, Sumerian.
In this universal silence still
first time I write"
could always be so right, our breath. The road below the house
hours
that intent is a page waiting for it
I write without stumbling
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