Cathexis Northwest Press

© 2018 

181110 an intruder takes me out of my slumber,; 181012 the neighbor's birch; 181009 the wheel
181110 an intruder takes me out of my slumber,

 

leaves being wrinkled,

aspens arrest the person of my interior,

after footage reveals the foul.

 

i’d wring the working line 

from your mind. 

 

i detest its motion, 

that self-surrender

 

to the silence one chooses. 

i am deigned

blue in my life-force bubble.

 

weather crinkles walnut leaves.

squashes of orange 

 

dot the taconic drive.

a little cold turns the berkshires

 

to bergs. a meander of the wind reaches

the reading room: sun

particles turn black a crown of vines.

 

morning spills its dew.

i defend my rest from old loves

 

through tosses in the timber’s chest; 

i’d lose the sleeper 

who broke my slumber.

181012 the neighbor's birch

 

leaves from another man’s yard keep falling on my asphodels. merriment 

should be in shackles, 

but it irons dress-shirts in october wind— a humid depletion of metropolis

mesmerizes me.

dust in the storm congeals, 

leaves are buried, then begriefed.

i see the neighbor’s man as my friend,

planted with me for as long as i live,

enchanted by charcoal in the air,

or shoot/cambium over vapor,

stupor on his pillar swing

from statues of chairs

sitting on colossal

ants. many are

alien to me.

they see

a tree.

bee,

i.e.

181009 the wheel

 

through the sieve through 

which the bodies of all forty four 

presidents catch fire and light is day; 

look how the barriers are emboldened, in treatise with mist and broken waves

over them.

 

the pendulum swinging proves

we’re spinning.

 

inside shadows that are long 

at the poles but not non-existent, because we face the universe from so many poles, 

we’re red to them 

and everyone who wants a country before the rudiments;

 

remember this, cogs like yours spin around the world.

i was a sailor first;

to barter in the magellanic clouds in the voids beyond; 

to be grateful for the battered goose or mouthy crabs along the shore.

 

the end is distemper

on air; hurricane michael gains a rotor,

drowns his witnesses in the stratosphere.

 

if we are to move after october,

we’d move to south florida in that hemisphere of spun water.

Zixiang Zhang teaches earth science, is extremely forgetful, and says yes as a general principle.