from AFTER ECHO

2.

I
place


the carapace
next to the live
version of the thing
that left its skin behind


We flutter when lighght


then ask forgiveness
for the mask


tape informs
a room


that can
contain all sayings


when I lift the window, all the outside rushes
lean again
in—to touch
the wall of some former you to touch its post


date and shipping


One structure wills
its disappearance in time then reappears in other
places people mind


Their tracks simple
molds


what it is to
recognize
the images
that pass


before them
in succession


What truth in train
of thought and rain

What train of distinct whistle being
carried away
note by longing note by longing no

the verb to pill
versus the object
swallowed—one is
our way forward
in this world. The other


if I was to count you
two times
among the leaves and lampposts


if I was to stammer
my calling of you
out into a song
and wait for it to return


The rasterized image contains its deconstructed form,
a hollow tube coursing sound through one body

out into this thinning air

How magic is performed for an audience
but practiced alone so many times


it becomes mundane


And I swallow
your name before I act—a cat
in my throat
making words deform


What is
becomes
smaller then
dissolvible
in nearly
any solution

when one key


is depressed                      the others sound alarmed


and the swatch of light that follows this depression


will dampen the edges of the horizon and all the debt


will cry as it’s erased – what real fear crushes: the cell and sublime

infinite stages between


their terms


dry tears on the dollar


dead present, depressed


dead president

return to ISSUE ONE